The Commitment
by AnExhibition
Summary: "No husbands. No dating. Just you and I." Jane and Maura agree to commit to each other. Somehow, they've fallen in love, they tell everyone. And nobody can ever know they're settling for each other just to put an end to loneliness. On this, they agree. Behind closed doors, they'll just be best friends. Together, but just best friends. But what happens when that line begins to blur?
1. Chapter 1

Jane follows Maura towards the bedroom. With dark eyes and a hammering heart, she watches Maura's hips sway. Jane thinks that Maura's petite waist is beautiful. She wants to touch it. To grab it. To wrap her arms around it. Around Maura. The hair that falls over Maura's shoulders is perfectly styled, even at this late hour, after all day at work. Jane knows from experience how soft it is to touch. Just like Maura. Like her hands. Like her lips. Jane feels warm all over. She can't help but stare at the way Maura's dark blouse clings to her delicate back. At the impression of Maura's bra at her sides. Lace? Satin? Jane licks her lips, and labels arousal as nervousness. As reluctance. As confusion.

As beautiful as Maura is, Jane doesn't know how this, their first time, is going to work.

Because Jane is not gay. And neither is Maura.

Maura turns off the bathroom light, and suddenly, the hallway seems much darker. The bedroom light is on, guiding them. Jane glances down at the heels of Maura's bare feet. Maura is comfortable. Maura wants this. Maura is more than ready. While she's taken off her shirt to eat the pizza she bought home for them in just her tank top, Jane is still wearing her work boots. In boots, she's at least a head taller than Maura. Jane likes this. The height difference turns her on. Makes her feel stronger, like Maura idolises and adores her more than she already does.

The wind is louder the closer they get to Maura's bedroom, as it always is at this end of the house. When they reach the bedroom, climbing the three steps to the door, Maura steps aside, a full wine glass in each calm, steady hand. She props the door open with the tilt of her hip. She smiles at Jane, that loving, adoring smile that says _I trust you_. It is strange, in that moment, that Jane has never felt so distant from her best friend. It must be because this is different. This is sex. Sex with her best friend. And even though Jane's thought about it (what Maura looks like naked, the sounds she would make, how she would move beneath Jane, above Jane, against Jane, how she would taste and writhe and lick and fuck), she doesn't know if this is something that she actually wants.

Maura is an awkward friend and person. But as she places the wine glasses far from the bed, all the way across the room on her dresser, she moves towards Jane with a raw sexual energy. Maura is relaxed like this. And even though Maura is not gay, has surprisingly never been with a woman, and has only so much as kissed Jane, it is clear that Maura knows exactly what to do in the bedroom.

Jane sits on the bed, rubs her sweaty palms against her dark suit pants. Maura watches Jane for a moment before she moves back to the door. She's locking it, Jane realises. And then there's a click. When Maura turns and rests her back against the door, full breasts pressed against the silk of her burgundy shirt, bottom lip caught between pearly teeth, hipbones sharp against her white pencil skirt, Jane thinks about all of the ways that this could happen.

Maura sighs. Jane stills her movements. When she raises her eyes to Maura's…there is an explosion of emotion. Of lust. Desire. Panic.

"If you don't want to do this," Maura starts, "…we don't have to."

"I want to do this."

"Do you?"

"I love you, Maur."

"You love me like a friend."

Jane is quiet. She doesn't correct Maura. Friendship. Companionship. Happiness. An end to loneliness. Family, eventually. Maybe. A world of possibility. And that is what this thing, this agreement was supposed to be about. Sex…sex was never supposed to be a part of this.

But Maura is looking at Jane with need and rejection shining in her eyes. She wants to be loved. God, Jane does love her, in so many ways. In confusing ways. The usual friendly way that she always has. But these last six months…there is something else. Something new. Something sexual. It's a growing passion that aches inside of Jane, but it feels utterly fantastic, even under lock and key.

"I like kissing you," Jane shares, and Maura's fallen expression brightens.

"I like kissing you, too, Jane."

_I know. I feel it. Every time. On the couch. In your office. In our bed when you whisper 'goodnight'. _

Maura's chest heaves. "You're a wonderful kisser."

Jane leans back on the bed, her palms spread out to hold herself up in an attempt to appear more relaxed, like she can do this. Confidence is sexy.

Jane pats the mattress. Maura pushes herself from the door. She smooths her skirt beneath herself as she sits next to Jane. Jane draws her eyes away from the curve of Maura's behind, tries to imagine what it's going to be like to unzip that skirt and touch silky skin and press her fingers against heat...

Maura interrupts Jane's thought process when she reaches up, and, with gentle fingers, rakes that stubborn strand of hair away from Jane's line of sight. Her fingers trail over Jane's scalp, fingernails tickling. Jane's eyes close involuntarily. She leans into the touch. Can't help herself. Maura's fingers feel so good, so delicate. Affectionate.

Words spill from Jane's lips. "I just…I know I'm nervous, and I know you can see that, but I don't want to mess things up."

"Jane, you're not going to mess anything up," Maura whispers, her devotion to Jane so real and true.

Jane opens her eyes again. She swallows as Maura's fingers trace the neckline of her tank top. It feels good. Too good. Maura is distracting her from the guilt, the responsibility. "What if we're not compatible like this?"

Maura raises an eyebrow and runs a fingertip beneath the neckline, just brushing the very top of Jane's right breast.

Jane reaches for that hand, and grasps it in her own. "No, Maura, just listen. What if we get naked and vulnerable and it's really, really bad?" She lets go of Maura's hand. "I'm not like you. I can't just make things work in the bedroom if they can't."

Maura draws her hands back into her own lap. "I know you get scared."

"I'm not scared." Jane leans forward, elbows on knees, head in her hands. "I'm just…we're not gay, Maura. God. We went into this with a no sex rule for a reason."

"Rule? There weren't any rules. You asked me how far it would go in the bedroom and I said that we'd take things slowly. See what happened."

Jane's heart is pounding. Fear. Excitement. She has no idea what she is saying. "You said that it wasn't about sex. That it was about commitment."

"It doesn't matter what I said, Jane. It's been six months, Jane, and I need to be touched."

Jane swallows. "Companionship, Maura. You wanted safety, and I've given you that."

Maura runs a hand through her own hair. Jane has pissed her off. She watches as Maura stands and untucks her short-sleeved blouse from her tight skirt. Maura opens the closet doors, her back to Jane. "You say you're not gay, but you're attracted to me, whether you like it or not. You're possessive, Jane."

Jane scoffs.

Maura twirls on the spot.

"No. Don't scoff at me. You don't like the way men look at me, and I get that. You've always been like that. But now it's different. I still don't know what happened between you and Timothy Granger last week, but I know it was about me, Jane. I know he said something to you about us, about me, and you didn't like it."

Jane jumps up from the bed and reaches for her wine glass. She's heard enough about that. Fuck Timothy Granger. Fuck everyone. She drains the glass. "I told you that I don't want to talk about that ever again, Maura. Don't bring it up again."

Maura huffs. "Fine. That's for you to decide. You're the one who hit a man. But you can't pretend that you don't enjoy protecting me. You get a rush from it, Jane. Because you want me."

Jane draws in a shaky breath, and perches herself on the other side of the bed. Maura's side. Closer to the closed window. Somehow, closer to air. Jane is suffocating.

Silence. A cry of the wind.

"I love you, Jane. As a friend, and I want to love you in other ways," Maura is calm. Jane wants to be calm. Maura's calmness brings tears to Jane's eyes. Tears only make Jane more confused. "But you have to let me. Otherwise, I think we're both going to be very frustrated and lonely for the rest of our lives."

Jane tears at the zipper of her boots, throwing them against the carpet in irritation. "Lonely? The whole point of doing this, of being together, was so that we'd never be lonely. So that we'd always have each other."

The bed dips behind Jane. She can feel the heat of Maura's body behind her as the doctor kneels on the mattress. Jane sighs as Maura presses her thumbs into Jane's muscles. Jane licks her lips, and thinks before she speaks. "If we just keep things the way they are, just kissing, just sleeping, just," Jane blushes, "…holding each other, why can't that be enough?"

Maura sees straight through the façade, the want, the confusion. "Jane, people already think we're a lesbian couple. Your mother, your brothers, our colleagues. They think we've fallen love. We told them that because _you_ didn't want them to think that either of us was settling. Settling for each other because we couldn't find real love with men. So, if everyone already thinks we're in love, making love, why are you so reluctant to just try to be with me in that way?"

Jane is quick to retort, and when she does, the words taste metallic on her tongue. "Because I'm not gay. And you're not gay. We're not really attracted to each other, Maura. C'mon, we both know that."

Maura is quiet, but she does not cease the movement of her fingers, pressing into Jane, relieving the tension. And, fuck, it feels so good to have Maura's warm hands against her bare skin.

"Do you remember last Sunday after family dinner?" Maura whispers in question, her lips pressed against the shell of Jane's ear. "We were in the kitchen, and you thanked me. You told me that you were happy with me."

Jane's eyes slip closed and she nods.

"You kissed me."

"I like kissing you," Jane repeats.

"I know." Fuck. Maura's breath is hot and wet against her neck. Jane need a long drink of water. More wine. She doesn't even like wine that much. "I like kissing you, too," Maura adds. "But Jane…you touched me, really, for the first time. Your hand…you touched me beneath my shirt, against my rib cage. You pulled me closer, pressed my leg between yours. You moaned."

"Maura…" Jane warns, her voice hoarse and the space between her legs begging to be touched by somebody other than herself. It's been a long time since she's even done that. Sleeping in a bed with Maura has its rewards (goodnight kisses, Maura's curves moulded to Jane's, listening as Maura gets herself off hours after she thinks Jane's fallen asleep). But Jane hasn't dared to find release in Maura's bed since the day she moved in. And the one time she had given in, lost control during a simple kiss, Maura had noticed. Noted it. Stored it to use against Jane in her moment of weakness. Only for good, of course. Maura Isn't manipulative. Maura Is too good for that.

Maura presseS her lips against Jane's neck. "Last night, you offered to try this. Last night, you seemed comfortable at the idea of being intimate with me. Jane, you need to stop thinking so much."

Jane turns her body on the bed, and suddenly, Maura's lips capture hers. Nip. Slide. Pressure. Jane's lips part slowly, hesitantly, and Maura's tongue is in a desperate hurry to slide against Jane's. Wet. Warm. Hot, heavy breaths. Jane just wants to push Maura back against the bed, press a leg between Maura's and grind them to orgasm. Fully clothed, she doesn't care. She wants Maura.

Oh, God. If only Jane was good enough. If only she wouldn't lose control. If only this was the right thing to do. If only she was sure that she was in love with this woman. Because really, aren't they just using each other? That must be the reason. It has to be the reason why Maura wants Jane so much. She's not in love with her blue-collar detective. Maura…Maura is just content.

Fuck. Who cared?

Jane's hands come to feel the smoothness of Maura's jaw. Jane angles their kiss, makes it deeper and fuller and wetter. But when Maura's hands grasp at Jane's waist, Jane slows. She has to be careful. She can't let them rush this. There's too much want. Too much need. Too much fucking frustration that she can never, ever let Maura see. Because if this doesn't work, god, if Jane isn't good enough as a lover, maybe, maybe they can just go back to companionship and forever. If Maura's just using her for sex, and commitment too, maybe they can just not be lonely together. That way, Maura will never have to know how desperately Jane wants to make love to her, to make Maura hers.

"Let's take this slowly," Jane breathes. She runs her hands, her shaky fingers over Maura's gorgeous neck. This woman is warm all over. So different to Jane.

"We have all night," Maura whispers seductively. Jane blushes at the mere thought. All night with Maura. Hot, wet, aroused Maura. Her best friend. Oh god, Jane is so far in denial. At least one of them isn't using the other. Jane is in love with Maura. She knows it when Maura sighs, when their lips meet again. All that Maura has to do is kiss her and Jane loses control.

Maura runs her thumbs up and down the ribbing of Jane's tank top, presses them against Jane's abdomen. There's a fire between Jane's legs now, and Jane's amazed that it's burning so strongly because she's so goddamn wet. She's aching and Maura hasn't even touched her naked skin.

"Maura…"

"Mmm…" Maura's lips trail along Jane's jaw. Jane dares to feel the silk of Maura's blouse at her back. It feels good. The heat of Maura's body beneath it feels even better. It almost burns away the mass of guilt that's been building on Jane's shoulders since the first time they tried kissing, the first time Maura held her as they slept. Oh god, Jane knows that her nipples are so hard. She fights to keep her hips from moving on the mattress.

Maura's hands touch the buckle of Jane's belt. Jane pulls away from the kiss, unable to disguise her panting breaths.

"Maura," Maura's lips latch onto the muscles between Jane's shoulder and neck. She bites there, softly. Jane swallows harshly at the sound of Maura's desperate little grunt. "Sweetheart…I want this to be about you tonight."

Maura kisses her way up Jane's neck, shaking her head as she goes. "Not just me. _Us_." She's refusing Jane's request. She sucks on Jane's earlobe, runs her hot tongue over the skin. Jane closes her eyes and swallows a moan. Maura's lips press against her ear again. "I want to touch you, Jane. I want to make love to you."

Jane doesn't think. She doesn't mean what she says. But she says it anyway.

"I don't want that."

Maura pulls back, arousal quickly turning to pain. And not the pleasurable kind. "What do you mean you don't want that?"

Jane gazes at Maura, trying to focus her eyes, to think of something to say. But Maura doesn't give her time to focus. Maura pulls herself away from Jane. Jane tries to reach for her, whispers, "Maura", and wraps her fingers around Maura's frail wrist, but Maura can't even look at Jane as she roughly peels them away.

The blonde pads across the room for her wine glass. She picks it up, swallows what is left, and leaves it next to Jane's empty glass. She shoots an angry glare at Jane as she moves toward the door. Jane swallows, but is slightly relieved. At least Maura is angry. Angry Maura is better than Hurt and Disappointed Maura.

Angry Maura unlocks the door.

"Maura," Jane tries again, thinking that there's no hope left tonight.

Maura surprises Jane when she turns at the doorway. "Jane, when you figure out what it is that you want from this…commitment…please tell me. I'll be here. I'm always going to be here with you. We decided that months ago, and married to you or not, I am a woman of my word. But we need rules from now on. I need to know what this is. You need to tell me what this is. Because I am tired of feeling guilty for pressuring you into sex, when you're the one who looks at me and touches me like I'm the love of your life."

Jane was awake until three am in the guest bedroom, thinking, figuring, trying to work it all out. The bed was uncomfortable, different, but even asking to sleep in their bed seemed asking for too much. The two am realisation that she hadn't slept in the guest bedroom for five months told her that somewhere along the line, something between Maura and Jane had changed.

Maura.

Jane pushed her hand beneath her panties, and touched herself. Minutes later, when she came, it was the thought of Maura's hands at her buckle that sent Jane into a rich, throbbing orgasm.

And that should have changed everything.


	2. Chapter 2

***Trigger warning***

* * *

**One Year Ago**

Maura is quiet. She rests a hand low on her abdomen and feels the dread rush over her.

As they pass the Hartford exit, she hums in response to Jane's complaints about her mother's cousin-in-law, Carla Talucci, but her eyes are focused on the gas station they pass. Maura should have asked Jane to stop again.

Maura turns her eyes back to the road in front, watches the snow fall against the windshield in relentless battle. Maura unwraps her scarf from her neck. She can't breathe. Jane has all three heating vents facing Maura. So considerate. Too considerate. Maura reaches forward to turn them towards Jane, but another cramp shoots low, twisting inside of her. Maura closes her eyes, and tries to focus on Jane. Jane. Jane.

"And freakin' Robbie Talucci," Jane whines, "he's a slime ball, Maur. Real slime ball. Good looking, I'll give him that. But, eugh. I'm gonna announce that you're pregnant as soon as we walk in. That'll keep him away from you for the weekend. Otherwise, he'll probably offer to take your bags to his room. He even offered that to me one weekend when I went down there to stay. And I'm his cousin. But don't think he'd even hesitate when it comes to my best friend. No Catholic guilt when it comes to you."

Maura forgets to laugh, chuckle or comment. She feels Jane's eyes land on her immediately. Jane's always needed Maura's approval. Maura smiles at Jane from the passenger seat. Jane smirks as she focuses her eyes on the road again. "Sorry, family reunions are the worst." This time, Maura hums empathy as she gazes out of the window, trying to ignore the disgusting dampness between her legs.

Jane mistakes Maura's distress for the comfortable silence they've always shared. Jane doesn't see the way Maura chews at her bottom lip to strangle the cry forming in her throat. So, when Maura pipes up and says in a hoarse voice so similar to Jane's, "Can we stop at the next gas station?", the consideration that something is wrong doesn't even cross Jane's mind.

"You gotta pee again?" Jane asks, exasperated. "Maura, you peed like twenty minutes ago when we stopped for lunch." Maura squeezes her eyes closed, trying to stop the tears from falling. Her mouth is almost dry. Jane huffs. "Can't you wait a while? The baby's like the size of a pea." Almost dry, except for that dreadful metallic taste. "I'm sure it's psychological, Maura."

Maura thinks she might faint in the passenger seat. "Jane, please. The next gas station."

Jane groans. "Fine, but you're the one who's going to have to get out in the freaking snow. And I'm not checking the freaking hygienic state of the toilet for you. My boots are soaked as it is." Maura looks out at the road ahead as Jane drones on. She shouldn't have come with Jane, shouldn't accepted the invitation to spend the weekend with her best-friend at the Talucci Family Reunion. When Jane finds out about what Maura is sure has happened, and Jane will find out, she's going to want to take Maura back to Boston. Home. Maybe to a hospital. But Maura knows that she doesn't need a hospital. There's nothing that can be done. If there was, Maura would have gone straight there yesterday when she first suspected that, at just six weeks, her first pregnancy was over before it had really began.

"I am never getting pregnant," Jane concludes pompously. But when Maura looks over, she sees the light shining in Jane's eyes in a way that she hasn't seen since before Casey's death.

Maura is silent.

It's eight minutes before they pull into the nearest gas station and the soothing vibration of the car dies. Maura opens her door and moves slowly from her seat, in a trance. "Wait," Jane calls before Maura closes the passenger door. "Can you get me a coffee on your way back?"

Maura nods.

Jane watches from the car as Maura walks briskly to the door of the adjoining diner and disappears inside. Maura seems different today, Jane thinks. Stressed, maybe. Or perhaps it's morning sickness. A wave of pleasure and jealousy washes over Jane at the thought of Maura's pregnancy. Maura is having a baby, all by herself. Six weeks down. Maura is going to be a mother. With a baby. Everything is going to change. It'll be different. Better. Not so great sometimes, but definitely better. Jane wants to be around for that. She wants to be around almost every day. She wants to be more than just an aunt. Teach Maura's kid stuff that Maura can't, won't. Jane wants responsibility. She wants that special kind of love that only innocence can provide. Innocence and Maura. _You could do the same thing, _Jane tells herself._ You could get pregnant the way Maura did. _No, she corrects her thoughts. You're not like Maura. And you don't want it enough. Not yet, anyway.

Maura is taking forever. Jane runs her hands over her face, and takes a look at her watch. They should be in New Haven before dinner time. They're not running late. Yet. Jane looks into the rear vision mirror at the Interstate 91. Her mother and Frankie have probably passed them by now. Unless Frankie had to stop at every freaking gas station in the last two hours to pee.

Jane sits up straighter and strains to see through the misty windows of the diner. It's practically empty. Maura must still be in the bathroom because there's nobody standing by the counter.

Jane sighs and sits back. Her eyes fall on Maura's wallet on the passenger seat.

Jane unbuckles her seatbelt, hides Maura's wallet, and reaches for her own. She locks the car, and the headlights flash in the reflection of the large diner window. When Jane steps inside there is a middle aged man sitting in the corner reading the paper, and a young waitress on the phone behind the counter. They both look up at Jane as she pours her coffee from the pot by the counter. She waits for Maura. She moves closer to the door. She steps outside. She mumbles complaints beneath her breath. It's too cold. She contemplates going back to the car. She waits some more. She goes inside. Tossing her coffee cup in the trash, Jane heads straight for the bathroom because, freaking hell, she's been waiting for ages and she just wants to get going and for this boring ass family reunion to be over with.

When she pushes the door to the female toilet open, Maura is standing by the sink, dabbing at her red, swollen eyes with a tissue.

Jane's face immediately transforms from annoyance to concern. "What's wrong?"

Maura doesn't look at her. She stares only at her own reflection. "I'm having a miscarriage."

The words seem to echo in the dimly lit room of tiles and dirtiness and horror.

Jane feels her heart skip a beat. She can't swallow over the lump that has formed in her throat.

Maura looks down. She draws a deep breath. She slowly looks over at Jane's reflection.

"Maura."

"I'm okay."

Jane reaches out for her.

Maura steps back and whispers _no_, but Jane envelops her in a tight, desperate grip.

And then, Maura's body goes slack against Jane. She lets out the beginning of a howl, but it is smothered in her throat before it can even echo. And that's what this is, if anything. An echo of a love that's passed.

Jane runs her hand up Maura's back and threads her long, cold fingers through the hair at the base of Maura's skull. Her other hand wraps around Maura's waist beneath her coat, pulling their bodies flush against one another as Maura cries against Jane's warm, bare neck. When Maura begins to choke on sobs, Jane tries to pull back. But Maura's arms wind around Jane's skinny waist. Jane hates that this is the closest they've ever been.

"Shhh," Jane whispers, and presses a kiss to her best-friend's hairline. "I'm so sorry, Maura." Jane feels Maura's lips part and tremble against her neck. She has never felt so helpless in her life. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." She runs her hand up and down the curve of Maura's side in a protective grasp, the cashmere of Maura's sweater so warm and comforting against her curled fingers.

Jane has no idea what to do. Maura shudders against her.

Loss.

"Maura, I need to take you to a hospital."

Maura shakes her head, and pulls back. "I was bleeding yesterday. Not like this. But I knew. Yesterday I knew it was over..." she trails off. Jane swallows, hurt and upset. Jane loosens her grip on Maura. Maura loosens her grip on Jane. Maura shouldn't be doing this alone. Shouldn't have done it alone.

Maura's arms slide around Jane's waist and drop to her sides completely. It's time to let go.

But when Jane isn't holding Maura, Maura sways. Her eyelids dance. Jane reaches out for her again, steadies her body against the counter of the sink. Maura refocuses on Jane, and her eyes are glassy and dark. Looking at Maura like this is frightening. Like this, Maura seems to actually be Queen of the Dead.

Maura's lips tremble, and Jane smooths a hand over the blonde's cheek. The warmth she finds there, beneath her own cold hand, is a sensation that makes Jane feel like it's okay. Maura is still warm. Maura is alive.

Jane watches as Maura gasps, and tears run from the corner of her eyes like little streams of agony.

"Oh, honey," Jane sighs and bends on her knees to look into Maura's cloudy eyes. "I know how much you wanted this. You can try again. I promise it's going to be okay."

"I'm too old," Maura whimpers, and it sounds as though she's questing Jane. Her eyes search Jane's for a source of hope.

"You're not too old." Jane presses her lips to Maura's cheek, once, twice, a third time against the corner of Maura's quivering lips, lips that Maura doesn't dare to part in fear of the cries that might escape. "You're so young, Maura, and you're going to be a wonderful mother. You will be a mother, I promise you."

Maura reaches behind herself to plant her palms on the counter. She stands taller, steadies herself. The heels of her long black boots tap twice against the floor. The echo sounds. Jane nods, and moves back, but not too far. Her neck is cold from the wetness Maura's tears left behind, the ghost of sensation her warm, shuddering breath left in despair.

Jane runs a hand up and down Maura's forearm. "Come on. Let's go home."

Maura looks up in shock. "No. The reunion."

Jane clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "We're going home," she asserts, and Maura knows better than to try to argue. Doesn't have the energy to argue. But somehow, Jane pulled her out of the deadly trance she'd entered the bathroom under.

They don't speak until they reach the door of the diner. It's snowing harder outside. White, clean snow like a blanket on the parking lot ground. Jane grinds her teeth in shame when she remembers how she'd complained about stopping at a gas station again, how she'd told Maura that she'd be getting out in the snow alone. Going to the bathroom alone. Finding heartbreak alone. She should have been with Maura. She should have always been with Maura.

"Can you walk?"

"What?"

"Are you in pain? I can carry you to the car…"

New tears brighten Maura's eyes. "No. I'm not in pain."

Jane reaches for Maura's hand.

"If I had a husband, a partner," Maura starts, "you could go to your reunion. I wouldn't be ruining your weekend. I wouldn't even be here."

Jane steps deeper into snow, and frozen water seeps between the lining of her work boots, burning her insides. _If she wasn't doing this alone, she wouldn't need you._

"Don't say that," Jane bites back.

They get in the car. Jane turns on the engine, then the heater, double checks that all three vents are pointed toward Maura. She reaches into Maura's lap for her best-friend's hand.

Maura bursts into tears.

"I'm sorry, Jane," she manages between gasps.

"No. No. There's nothing for you to be sorry for," Jane calms Maura, and she;s never heard her own voice sound so dangerous, so low and deep and raw. "This child would have been so loved, Maura. So loved. You didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault."

"I know," Maura chokes, and Jane leans across the console to grasp both of Maura's hands in her own. "I just feel like I've lost…" Jane waits, eyes wide and brimming with tears. "This baby would have loved me more than anybody else."

At that moment, a part of Jane breaks, and is never repaired.

Jane licks her lips and runs a thumb over the back of Maura's delicate hand. "I love you most, too."

"It's not the same," Maura whispers, so softly that for a moment Jane thinks she said, "It's not sane."

"I know." Jane rests her forehead against Maura's temple. "I wish it was."

They sit like that for a long time. Jane watches as Maura's eyelids flutter closed. The tears continue to stream across Maura's cheeks. Jane swallows, and knows that Maura can probably feel her nervousness. Maura senses everything.

Jane's thumb ceases movement, stops it's path over Maura's knuckles. They sit, unmoving, until Maura brings their clasped hands low in her lap, and then slides Jane's hands beneath hers and rests them on her abdomen.

Jane's eyes slipped closed and a stray tear runs alongside her cold, red nose. Goosebumps prickle all over her skin.

_Maura._

Jane opens her eyes to find that they are both crying. Not dry, heaving sobs, rather silent falling tears that just _are_. Maura is staring ahead at the brightly lit diner. They've turned the lights on, and day is turning into night. And Maura…Maura has fallen into a trance.

Jane leans forward with the daring intention to kiss Maura's cheek, show her that she is loved and not alone, but Maura turns her gaze from the diner and their lips meet and, god, it is nothing like Jane ever thought.

It is not awkward.

It is not painful.

But it is certainly not heaven.

Jane's top lip slides between Maura's full, parted lips, and she stills, wanting to pull away but unable to. She feels Maura her hands tighter against her belly, before she sighs against Jane's mouth. Jane's tongue aches to travel past her lips. It feels heavy in her mouth. Jane parts her lips wider in shock at the desire and fear and humiliation that courses through her. Slowly, too slowly, Maura seals Jane's lip between her own in a kiss, and there is no give and take, just wet, sliding lips that part for each other. Jane shifts, and her lips press further between Maura's. She feels tears saturate their lips as they massage together, and Jane doesn't know if she is tasting Maura's salty heartbreak or her own. It doesn't matter. Their heartbreak would probably taste the same. Probably. Almost.

Maura shudders, pulls back, and looks into Jane's confused eyes. Jane has never seen Maura so utterly terrified.

"It's okay, it's okay," Jane breathes in a rush, and gathers Maura into her arms. For once, she can't look her best friend in the eye.

For once, she doesn't want to.

* * *

**AN: I am so grateful to those who left a review last week. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review. **

**So, the first chapter was a prologue of sorts, and will take place a year from this chapter. From this chapter forward, the story will be in chronological order. Eventually, the scene from the first chapter will pop up. **

**I do want to state that my intentions in writing this story are not to exploit sexuality. This story is not about heterosexual women settling for lesbianism because they can't find men. This is about Maura and Jane approaching a relationship with the mindset that they're settling for each other because it's the only way they can figure out how to express their mutual, unspoken desire to be together. I want to work with canon. Canon Maura and Jane are, for the most part, straight, but obviously adore and love each other very much. I want to explore what would happen if canon Maura and Jane fell in love, and sexual desire is an element that will come into play as the story progresses. **

**Anyway! The next chapter should be up soon! Thanks for reading, and if you do have time to review, I would very much appreciate it!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sorry for the delay with the posting of this chapter! Crazy couple of weeks! I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's very much dialogue based, so I hope that doesn't bother too many readers. Reviews are so, so appreciated!**

* * *

It's past eleven p.m. on a Thursday night, and Jane's been drinking since eight p.m. This both concerns Maura and relaxes her. Jane hasn't been drinking lately, hasn't been herself. This case hit too close to home, and Maura knows it. But it's over now. This afternoon, Jane deserved a beer. A few beers. And it was like Jane to drink, to unwind that way. A relaxed Jane made for a relaxed Maura. But when Maura found Jane at the Dirty Robber just after ten, Frost had waved his hand from the bar, called back that Jane and Frankie had each bought three rounds that night and it was his turn. Now, as Jane and Maura sat alone in the back booth, Jane was on her eighth round, even though Frankie, Frost and Korsak had left and Jane still took every opportunity to express her distaste about the renovated bar. _Why don't we just go home, or find somewhere else? _Maura asked each time Jane would reminisce about the old Dirty Robber, the good times they had in the old bar. Yet they were still here, Maura watching Jane pick at the label of her eighth beer. It was not like Jane to drink excessively, and this worried Maura.

The worst part is that Jane isn't drunk. Jane never gets drunk. Intoxicated, yes. Picky, definitely. Daring, especially.

"You don't need a man for that," Jane scoffs as she leans forward and slumps over the edge of their table. "I'll do it for you."

Maura sits back in the booth, and purses her lips. "When will you do it? I need it done immediately, Jane."

"Next week, okay?"

Maura rolls her eyes. "Don't worry, I'll just hire someone."

"Maura. I said I'd fix the fucking light switch. Just leave it and let me do it, okay?"

Maura clicks her tongue. "Fine."

"You don't even use the guest room, so I don't know why you need the light fixed so urgently."

A pause. Jane watches as Maura diverts her stare. _Oh._ Jane raises an eyebrow in understanding and annoyance. "Did she ask to stay with you again?"

Jane sobers as she waits for Maura's answer.

"Who?" Maura murmurs.

"Who?"Jane questions, her eyebrows creasing in frustration. "Cailin."

Maura is quick to answer. "She's visiting From New York, Jane, and I offered for her to stay with me."

"She makes you uncomfortable. Why can't she just stay with Hope?"

Maura's lips part, and then she stops herself. Jane is waiting for another tepid excuse like _Hope is in Africa and Cailin wants to visit more than just the city_, or _Beacon Hill is more convenient for Cailin to travel to and from summer school here in Boston. Instead, Maura clearly states, _"She's pregnant, Jane. And she's not ready to tell Hope just yet. She doesn't know what she wants to do about the baby."

Although she works a gentle smile on to her lips, suffering and depression seem to radiate from Maura's skin.

Jane swallows. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

_Because you lost your loved and wanted baby a year ago yesterday, and now your much younger sister is accidentally pregnant and I know you well enough to know that all that you can think about is how much you hate yourself for thinking that Cailin doesn't deserve the joy that she can only perceive as a burden._

Maura looks up at Jane with a glare that says she doesn't want to discuss babies or pregnancy or abortion. Jane knows that it still hurts, and will hurt forever.

"Look," Jane starts. "It's not that I don't like Cailin. I do. I like her." Maura sips at her glass of wine. "But every time she comes to stay, you go into a weird funk."

Maura rolls her eyes. "I do not go into a weird funk."

"You do. We don't hang out. You stop telling me stuff. Everything is about Cailin, if she's having a good time at your house, if she likes your company. 'Oh, we can't hang out tonight, Jane. Cailin is having her friends over.'"

"She's my sister," Maura acknowledges defensively. "I want her to like me. I'm trying to build a strong relationship with her."

"A strong relationship?" Jane sighs. "You didn't even tell her that you miscarried because you didn't want to make her uncomfortable, and she visited the week after that happened."

The expression of despair and defeat that ghosts across Maura's features set Jane's jaw hard. Would the old, hopeful Maura ever return? If there is any way Jane could see the real Maura again, give this Maura back that sense of belonging and safety, she'll do it in a heartbeat.

"I'm not going to apologise for being a private person, Jane."

"Of course not. I'm not asking you to. But you don't have to be private about things like that, Maur. Not with your sister. Besides, you share private stuff with me."

"We're close."

"Cailin thinks she's close with you. She tells you stuff. Why can't you be open with her? Why do you always feel so down on yourself after she visits?"

Maura lowers her gaze again. The life definitely seems to be drained from her these days. "She's just so young, and she has a life ahead of her. I don't want to burden her with my issues."

"I think she'd like to know you for who you are, Maur." Maura nods solemnly, and takes another sip of her wine.

Jane considers Maura for a moment, watches the way she fusses with the napkin as she soaks up the rings of condensation left behind from Frankie's beer.

"Hey, if this has anything to do with you feeling 'less than', that's just stupid."

Maura looks up at Jane, her eyes wide. Yes, Jane has certainly hit the nail on the head with that one. "You are amazing," Jane confesses with sincere confidence. "You're the chief medical examiner, you've published two medical journals in the past year, and you have family and friends who love you. And you'll have a baby, too, Maur. Soon. You will."

"So you think I'll never get married?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't include it."

Jane shrugs. "You haven't dated for a while."

Maura gazes at her inquisitively. _Elaborate, please_.

"It skipped my mind that getting married was a priority, something to check off your list. Besides, we don't exactly make men our priority."

"You did."

Jane takes a long swig of her beer, two fingers pressed tightly against the curve of the bottle. "Yeah. For a while." Shame and guilt cloud her senses. It's almost funny that, even though it's only been just over a year since Casey died, all traces of grief have left her. Jane is no longer haunted by Casey, by what could have been.

"I remember back then," Maura continues, "…when you were with Casey. I used to think about what it would be like for us to be married."

Jane raises an eyebrow. "Not to each other," Maura clarifies. "To men."

Jane watches as Maura rubs the skin at the base of her neck, her fingertips disappearing beneath the collar of her violet satin blouse. Hives. "What about it?" Jane asks.

"Well, I would wonder which one of us would be married first, what would happen to the one who was single. I suppose I tasted that when Casey returned to Boston permanently. The last time, I mean. But we still spent a lot of time together."

"Yeah," Jane nods. "I've thought about that, too. I mean, I still think about it."

"Oh?"

"Not marriage stuff, though. I…sometimes I can't stop myself but I…I wonder which one of us would have to attend the other's funeral."

Jane watches the way Maura's eyes become crystal with tears, just a thin film of salty water that threatens to bleed disgust from Maura's eyes at the thought.

"I don't want to think about that," Maura whispers hoarsely.

Jane nods and looks away like the noble woman she is. Jane glances around at the room, the young couple in the furthest booth from them, sharing sweet kisses in the dimly lit bar.

"So what if you and I were a thing?"

Maura has Jane's attention more rapidly than ever.

"What?" Jane fires in question, her heart pounding in her chest. A special kind of humiliated heat reserved just for questions like these flush from one limb to the next, and finally reaching Jane's face.

Maura is resting her chin on her palms, her elbows pressed against the dark oak of the table. She's smiling coyly, but Jane is a detective and Maura's best friend. She knows that beneath the subtlety Maura is self-conscious and begging to be understood.

"Maura, what?"

"I'm thirty-eight, you're almost thirty seven…"Maura explains, as if it's the entire, simple explanation to her question. "You haven't dated for a long time."

"I've been busy. Stressed," Jane responds, suddenly feeling the urge to defend her lack of a dating life.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we're getting older. Maybe we should start considering our options."

"And what, you're an option?"

Maura bites at her bottom lip, and watches as Jane's whole hand wraps around the bottle.

Maura is soft-spoken when she asks, "Do you want me to be an option?"

Jane's mouth feels dry. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jane knows exactly what Maura is talking about.

"So, you know how people, friends, make pacts…" Maura begins.

"Pacts?"

"Yes, pacts. A pact. They say, "If we haven't met the right person before we turn 40, we'll marry each other."

"So you want to get married?" Jane licks her lips, and feigns a laugh. She doesn't know who she pities more—Maura or herself. "Maura, are you high?" she whispers, knowing that her feigned tone is nasty and too incredulous.

The way Maura's face falls tells Jane that this conversation is delicate and not to be taken as lightly as she responds to Maura's often strange suggestions and questions. This one, however, is different. To this suggestion, there is truth and depth and purpose.

"Not married," Maura murmurs. "Just together." She raises her gaze to meet Jane's, and Jane sees hope and happiness shining in her best friend's eyes. "You and I, we're like partners, right?"

Jane swallows another sip of beer. "Yeah, I suppose." Maura tilts her head in question. "Of course, Maura. We're partners."

Maura begins to fidget, begins to twist the inexpensive but so adored ring Angela gave Maura for her last birthday around her middle finger. "I don't think marriage is for me, you haven't shown an interest in anybody for a long time...we spend all of our free time together." Jane's head is swimming with Maura's words. "So what if we decided to…share our lives together?" Jane hears as she watches Maura's lips move.

"Maura, I'm not gay," is the first thing she can think to say. For this, she feels horrible, because she's known from the moment Maura brought this up minutes ago, that what Maura is suggesting isn't about that. It's about the fact that they love each other more than friends should. How they love each other, Jane isn't quite sure. It's different than what she's felt for Casey and Dean. It's less passionate, and it's hardly sexual (but for the rare, fleeting thought). But there's no doubt that it's intense.

"Neither am I," Maura states surely. "But I love you."

Jane watches her hand reach across the table for Maura's hand. She feels the dainty fingers settle so comfortably alongside her own. "Maura." A strange thrill runs through Jane. She likes talking about this, entertaining the thought, even if she does have to dismiss it as nonsense. "I love you, but I don't think it would work."

Maura is not fazed. "We wouldn't have to engage in sexual activity, Jane."

Jane blinks widely. "Where is this coming from?"

"I'm lonely," Maura explains. "And I don't want to be alone forever. I like the way you make me feel," she adds.

Jane's heart swells with pride, and she leans closer across the table. "The way I make you feel?"

Maura's fingers settle further into Jane's hold. "Safe." Jane watches their hands. "Loved."Maura is pale, and Jane is dark. "Needed."

Jane licks her lips. "Honey, I'm always going to be here for you. I'll always need you."

Maura huffs, seemingly frustrated that Jane can't see the sense that she can see in her own proposal. "Jane, I want to commit to somebody who is always going to care for me. I'm sorry, I just thought that—

"You don't need to settle, okay?"Jane interrupts.

Maura pulls her hand away slowly, and her gaze which had so steadily held Jane's until that moment falls. "Sharing your life with me would be settling for second best for you?"

"No," Jane make clears. "Not for me. But it would be settling for second, hell, nineteenth best, for you."

"You're wrong. It wouldn't be settling. We'd live together, maybe get married one day…"

"Married?!"

"I'd be committed to you, you'd be committed to me. We could start a family."

"Maura, we're both young. Sure, I'm not like I used to be, but there's no need for this right now. You want a baby, so try again. We'd all support you if you had a child. Especially me. You know that. Besides, I take marriage vows seriously. I respect them, regardless of the way my pop treated my ma."

"I respect them too," Maura stresses. "But we _would_ love each other."

Jane shakes her head. "Not that way."

"Okay, maybe not romantically…and sexually. But we'd be loyal and true to our promises."

Jane is silent.

"What can a man offer you in marriage that I can't?" Maura challenges.

"Maura, I'm not…I'm not gay. I know that you've asked me in the past, but I'm really not gay. I like men. I like to be desired by men."

"So it's about the sex for you?"

"Isn't it about the sex for _you_? Maura, you love men. You love sex." Maura purses her lips in protest, but Jane continues. "And like I said, I take marriage vows seriously. I'm not a lesbian, Maura. And being together would mean that we'd have a life without love and real fulfilment."

Maura leans closer across the table. She picks at a thread stuck to the sleeve of Jane's suit jacket. "So you didn't feel fulfilled falling asleep in my arms last night?"

Jane can feel the blush rising on her chest. "You make it sound like something it isn't," she says quickly. Too quickly. "So we fell asleep together," Jane belittles the memory. "I was drunk. It's not like we have some kind of a romantic connection."

Maura watches Jane closely, and Jane fears that Maura's textbook knowledge of psychology can read more in her expression than Jane can read within herself. "Maybe not romantic," Maura explores, "but it's certainly intimate. For me, what we have is intimate."

There is a moment of quiet. Jane takes Maura's hand in her own, and holds it tightly in the fear that she might let go if Maura brings up anything else that makes her question what it is that makes their friendship so special.

"Jane, it's not about us being straight women and entering a lesbian relationship, or settling for second best. It's about you and I always being together. I wouldn't cheat on you. There would be other ways to fulfil my sexual needs…by myself." Jane squeezes her eyes shut in protest, but Maura shushes her. "Just let me paint a canvas for you," she insists.

Jane groans and fixes a confused, pointed stare on her best friend. "A picture."

"A picture," Maura reiterates. Jane rolls her eyes. "Just listen, please, Jane."

Jane is respectfully quiet for the moment.

"We move in together, tell people we've fallen in love."

"Why would we tell people that?"she interrupts.

Maura's stare falters and becomes unfocused, uncomfortable. "Because we wouldn't want it to seem like we'd be settling for second best."

"Hate to break it to you, Maur, but yeah, we would. You have lady parts. Sorry, but they're second best."

"People wouldn't need to know that you're settling for me," Maura responds softly, the hurt evident in her snappy tone. Jane watches as she draws a deep breath. "They'd judge us," she murmurs, her voice wavering. Jane bites her tongue and her words. "They would underestimate our love, our commitment. They would all speak about it behind our backs. 'Jane will leave Maura soon, she'll find a man. And have a family.' I don't want that. I want true, respectable commitment." Jane's head felt heavy. "Besides," Maura continues. "A romantic label for our relationship would suit us more appropriately." Jane blinks twice and feels that lump swell larger in her throat. "Eventually, there would probably be little things that we would crave."

"Like what?" she can't stop herself from asking.

"Like falling asleep in each other's arms."

Jane tells herself that she's come to regret that decision in the last twenty four hours. However, Jane is lying to herself.

"I was drunk."

"You were not drunk. Your breath didn't smell of alcohol, and I know that you didn't go to the Dirty Robber last night because Frost told me that you didn't end up meeting him there. So, I know that you lied about that. I also know that lying about being drunk made it easier for you when you very consciously slipped your leg between mine before we fell asleep."

"Can you please lower your voice?" Jane whispers, glancing behind herself to determine whether anyone can hear them.

"So, regardless of what we called it, a sexual relationship or companionship, people would speculate if we said that we were just moving in together to save on expenses." Jane gulps and turns back to Maura. "Don't you think we have the right to label it for what it is, what it could be?" the blonde asks, expecting a concise, articulate answer to her question.

Jane is reeling from the alcohol and the questions and Maura's determined hazel gaze.

"I get you Maura. You know that, right?" Maura nods. "I don't want you to be lonely either."Maura smiles. "But this is all…"

"We tell people we've fallen in love," Maura starts again, this time with a gentle smile playing on her lips. This is her last attempt to try for this, Jane realises, because the tears in Maura's eyes are telling Jane that Maura is both embarrassed and desperate. "We get engaged, and married. You come home to me, we make dinner together at night, and share breakfast in the mornings. I respect you, you respect me. We can just be us, under the same roof. A comfortable, happy life. Nothing sexual. Just…family. Love. Safety. Christmases and New Year and birthdays, and we could each have a child, or children. Your mother would be a grandmother."She pauses. "You'd have me for yourself," are her last words.

And those words, they reach something inside of Jane, pull and unravel and twist a coil of want, a trigger of longing that Jane has never seen so plainly and never been able to label.

Jane blushes in shame. "Have you for myself?"she whispers.

"Don't play coy, Jane. We both know that you get incredibly jealous when men pay attention to me." Jane reaches for her beer to quench her dying thirst, but it is empty. "And it's not because you want their attention." Forget thirst. Jane needs to get hammered, right now. "It's because you want mine."

Jane draws a deep breath that lodges itself in her chest. "What's with this new seductress thing you've got going on?" she questions heatedly, her voice gravelly and deep. "You never used to do that."

"You never used to kiss me in cars or fall asleep in my arms," Maura shoots back.

When their eyes meet, Jane realises that perhaps this 'thing' that Maura is proposing isn't so maddening after all. But it's pretending that she doesn't want it that is driving her insane.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** I want to apologise for the mix up with the sequence of events for this story. I figure since most of the readers of this chapter have already read chapters 1-3, there's no point going back and editing the story immediately. So, please be aware that, if there has been any confusion, from this chapter forward the following events have occurred according to this timeline:

**13 Months Ago: Casey's death.**

**12 Months Ago: Maura lost her baby.**

**Last Week: Maura proposed her idea to Jane.**

**The events of chapter one take place in the future, six months into their arrangement.**

On another note, I want to remind people that my main goal with this story is to write the characters as they are portrayed in the show. I had a few reviews commenting and wondering why Jane doesn't seem to want Maura. The Rizzoli and Isles that I am writing are not in love with each other (yet) and do not desire each other in the way that other fanfictions portray them to. This is going to make for some awkward attempts at sex (I'm REALLY looking forward to writing those chapters) and other discussions. This fanfiction will essentially be the tale of what would happen if Janet Tamaro's version of Jane and Maura were to end up together. I hope that isn't too confusing! Again, your reviews are so very appreciated. Thank you ALL so much! Let's get to it!

* * *

Jane can feel her mother's eyes on her, and she knows the question is coming. She knows that her mother is blaming her, too.

"What's wrong with Maura?" Angela asks accusatorily, her eyebrows raised and ready for an early-morning Rizzoli battle.

Jane sighs and keeps her gaze focused on _The Boston Globe_. "Nothing, Ma. Why?"

"I think she's depressed again," Angela remarks as she wipes at Maura's countertop.

"Maura's not depressed, Ma. Just leave it alone."

Angela disappears behind the counter island for a moment, and Jane leans forward, her dark ringlets dangling over scrambled eggs as she follows her mother with a glare. She watches Angela scan the hallway for any sign of Maura. Her mother turns back, and Jane quickly sits back down in her chair. Angela clicks her tongue repeatedly. Jane looks up and raises her eyebrows.

"Did you say something to upset her?" Angela wonders.

"Why do I always have to be the one to upset her?" Jane fires. "Maybe she upset me and feels guilty about it. She's not perfect, you know."

"Well, she's damn well near it."

Jane rolls her eyes and tries not to feel guilty. It's not Jane's fault. She didn't start this. Maura did. Not that Maura is to blame. There's nobody to blame. Jane tries to swallow her breakfast over the knot of anxiety in her throat.

"Did you say something about the way Ian treats her?"

Jane drops her fork in irritation, and it pings against Maura's fine bone china too harshly. "Excuse me?" she asks, confused by her mother's question. "The way Ian treats her?"

"Maura confides in me," Angela reveals for the second time that week, a temper of pride and hostility referencing Jane's reluctance to appreciate her mother in the way that Maura does. "She was very upset that time all those years ago after you decided to voice your loud, unsympathetic opinion about how he uses her as a doormat," Angela berates. Jane picks at her food again, trying to ignore the brunt of her mother's misconception that she knows as much about Maura as Jane does. "He was the love of her life, you know."

Jane releases a frustrated huff. "Yes, _I know_." She points her fork at her mother. "Hey, you were the one who went snooping in his boxes. And why are you bringing up Ian?"

"She didn't tell you?" Angela asks.

Jane rolls her eyes. "Obviously not."

"A letter arrived last week for Maura. Wasn't business or anything. It was a personal letter." Angela looks to the doorway of the hall again, and lowers her voice to say, "I read the address of the sender; an 'I. Faulkner'."

It shouldn't surprise Jane as much as it does. And it does. Jane's heart begins to pound.

* * *

_Korsak drops a file on her desk. _

"_Uniform came upstairs while you were at lunch with Dr Isles. Said that an Internal Affairs officer was requested to bring the file up to you. Apparently the guy's in custody and asked to speak to you."_

_Jane nods, and shifts her paperwork around on her desk for a moment, in search of another form. And then her gaze lands on the label of the file. _

_Faulkner, Ian. _

_Jane swallows. She doesn't like the lie that falls from her lips, but she can't keep it. _

"_I have no idea who that is." _

_Jane takes the file down to Internal Affairs and leaves it there. When Jane takes the elevator to the morgue and finds Maura excitedly dissecting stomach contents, she doesn't have the heart to tell her._

* * *

"She didn't even read it while I was there," Angela whispers. "She put it straight in that little table of hers, you know the one with the lock on it. She knew that I knew it was from him. I came back later, just to take her some pastries—

"Ma, you gotta stop doing that. It's her house."

"What? You're eating breakfast here!"

Jane grunts and painstakingly finishes the rest of her breakfast.

"Anyway, when I came back the letter opener and the envelope were on the counter, next to an empty bottle of wine."

Maura steps into the kitchen and smiles at Jane, and then at Angela. Her expression slowly transforms into one of confusion. "Is something wrong?"

Angela removes herself from leaning over the counter into Jane's personal space and stands up straight. She moves to hug Maura, and Jane watches as Maura lets her. Jane wipes her tongue over her teeth and grins as Maura etches an eyebrow onto her puzzled expression.

Jane looks away. If Maura was writing to Ian, or if Ian was writing to Maura, was he doing it from prison? And if he wasn't, had he told Maura that he'd asked for Jane, and she'd ignored his desperate request? Did Maura still love Ian? Was that why she wanted Jane, because she knew she'd never love another man like she had loved Ian, and did that mean that she was choosing Jane because she didn't want to love another man again because she had given all of herself already?

Angela leaves. Jane washes dishes. She squeezes too much lavender dishwashing liquid into the heavy spray of running water, and Maura's eyes widen at the bubbles as she spoons yoghurt into a bowl. "Jane, you use too much of that stuff and your mother complains that her gnocchi tastes like soap, as though it's somehow my fault."

Jane's hands still in the water. "Did you come to me last week and say what you said because Ian prompted it?"

The door of the fridge slams shut and Jane sighs.

"Ian?" Maura whispers softly.

"Yeah," Jane tries to remark casually, but the morning husk of her voice partnered with disappointment reveals nothing less than her unease. "Has he been sending you love letters or something? Is that why you suddenly had the urge to propose marriage and…the lifestyle you suddenly wanted for us?" she dares to ask.

Maura leans back against the counter alongside Jane. Jane watches as Maura stirs her yoghurt silently for a moment. "Your mother has to stop reading my mail."

"She only read the sender address."

"It was a letter from Isabelle Faulkner," Maura shares. "She was a friend I made in group therapy."

Jane's relief is prompt. "Group therapy?" she whispers curiously.

"After the miscarriage."

"So, what, you write each other letters?"

"Yes." Maura brings the spoon to her lips, and Jane notices the way it shakes in Maura's unsteady hand. Jane bites the inside of her cheek. She should have trusted that Maura wouldn't use her. She should have known. "It was a therapy exercise," Maura confides. "To share letters each week, write down our thoughts and feelings about our grief if we wished to. Isabelle and I were very similarly affected in terms of emotional...we both lost the first child that we carried. We connected."

"You still write about the…you know, how it hurts? Emotionally?"

"Yes."

Jane pulls her hands from the water and wipes them on a dishcloth. The ache in her chest is comprised of regret and guilt and loss. "Why don't you talk to me about that stuff?" she asks quietly. _Aren't I enough for you? I'm here._

Maura is quiet.

"I get it," Jane lies to fill the silence. "I don't really know what it feels like to go through something like that."

Maura reaches out for the damp red dishcloth in Jane's hands and places it on the counter. "No, Jane." She slips her hand between Jane's to press against the warmth of a scarred palm. "That's not why."

"Because it's not a burden to need me," Jane assures with a shrug of her shoulders. She nervously plays with Maura's delicate fingers, watches olive skin intertwine with irish skin. "I was there the day it happened." Peripherally, Jane is aware of the way Maura's chest heaves just once, gently, in despair. "You're not a burden," Jane whispers.

"I know."

Jane drops Maura's hand slowly, and with an easy smile and brief eye contact, she moves to finish what she started.

"So it wasn't Ian, huh?" she asks as she watches Maura litter berries into her bowl of plain yoghurt.

"I haven't spoken to Ian in years."

A pause.

"Come on, talk to me, Maura."

"It's insulting that you think I'm so desperate."

"I don't think that."

"Because I'm not. I am not desperate."

"Okay."

"I think that I made a fool of myself last week."

"Maura, no," Jane clarifies. "I understood. I _understand_."

"I just thought that we could be happy together, you know."

Jane carefully thinks about what it is she wants to say to that.

"It's not that you wouldn't make me happy. You would." The way the corners of Maura's lips curve reminds her of how fragile and sensitive Maura is to everything._ Tread lightly, Jane._ "But I don't know if it's enough."

Maura smiles wistfully, thankfully. She is calm. She is certain. She confesses, "You're the only person who has ever loved me."

Jane shakes her head. _Oh, Maura_. "That's not true."

"It is," Maura states surely, and pulls the spoon from between her lips. "Nobody has ever loved me the way you do." Their gazes lock. "My family…biological and adoptive, they care for me. But they don't know me like you do. They don't appreciate me like you do." Maura hesitates. "I just want you to understand why I suggested the arrangement. But I promise not to bring it up again, Jane."

Maura gently places her empty bowl in the empty sink.

* * *

After work, they find themselves together for only the second time that day. They're eating pizza in Maura's kitchen, standing over the counter again as Maura dabs at pepperoni grease with a napkin.

Jane isn't hungry.

"You want to know something?" she asks casually as she unbuttons her purple satin shirt and slips it over the back of a chair. Maura bought her a few shirts, really nice shirts, for her last birthday. They're just plain, like her old oxfords, but with a feminine cut that sits on her frame perfectly. Although she hasn't admitted it to Maura, they make her feel good about herself. More feminine. More attractive. Comfortable. It's funny, silly almost, how little things can change the way you feel about yourself.

"What?" Maura responds in question, but she is distracted by the task at hand.

"Before you met Tommy, before he was released from prison, I used to have this little fantasy."

Maura hums her reply, but doesn't glance up.

"I used to hope that one day you'd fall in love with Frankie."

This catches Maura's attention. She stands straight and raises an eyebrow.

Jane doesn't dare meet Maura's gaze. Jane, who is confused and conflicted and a little uneasy, has always been honest. Honest enough for Maura. She continues. "One day when he was a real grown up, a detective with his own place. You know, like he is now. That's when you'd fall for him."

Maura waits for a moment for more, and Jane steps closer, moves around the counter island to stand next to Maura and pull their halves of a delicious pizza apart.

Maura licks her lips.

"I would watch the way you two interacted and think that, yeah, it could be real good. He'd have a wife, you'd have a good guy who loved and respected you and appreciated you like I do. And you'd be a Rizzoli, always around."

Jane's voice does not falter.

"But then Tommy was released and you were attracted to him, and it wasn't the convicted criminal thing about him that bugged me. It wasn't even because he's not smart enough for you, good enough for you. Suddenly the reason why I liked the idea of you and Frankie together was obvious—you weren't attracted to him. To Frankie, I mean. Not that I wanted you to be attracted to me. I'm not saying that. It's just that Frankie was safe for you—for me—because you didn't want to spend time with him. But Tommy, and any other guy, they'd take you away from me. Frankie would respect you, but he'd also respect me. Respect what you and I have." Jane shrugs and Maura's eyes follow the slice of pizza in awe as Jane, relaxed and maybe a little embarrassed, brings the point to her thin lips.

"So you didn't want to share me back then?" Maura wonders as she takes a bite of mushroom and delight.

"I don't want to share you now."

The words are heavy in actuality, but they are light on Jane's lips.

"I'm not a possession," Maura counters jokingly.

Jane drops her half-eaten slice of pizza back in the box and turns towards the fridge for a beer. "You know that's not what I meant." Her voice is rough.

Maura straightens her posture. "So what's the difference between your perfect fantasy of me ending up in a nice domestic life with Frankie as opposed to a comfortable, safe relationship with you if I'm not attracted to either of you?"

Jane returns to stand beside Maura with a beer for herself and a bottle of wine for Maura. She retreats for a glass.

"There is no difference. That's why you deserve more. To be loved."

"Wanted, you mean?"

A cabinet door slams closed behind Maura.

"No, loved. Loved passionately. You deserve for someone to be _in_ love with you."

Jane fills Maura's glass. "Thank you, Jane."

The silence is long and filled with trepidation as they finish their meal and then sit down to watch TV as they always do. But Maura's legs don't curl up beside her, and she sits as far away from Jane as the couch permits.

Jane feels like she's said her peace. And maybe this is it. Maybe they'll never bring it up again. There will be days, maybe even weeks of awkwardness because this is more than just one of Maura's weird, funny little comments. This is big. But they'll get over it. Together. Separately. One day this will be laughable.

But presently, the tension they've created for themselves does not permit laughter.

"Jane, I want you to know…I wouldn't be settling for you."

She holds back the groan which would release frustration and confusion and that little ache that tells her she's denying a good thing. An_ opportunity_. She holds back so that Maura can have her release.

"You've used the term 'settling' a few times. We both have. But it's not like that. I haven't suggested the arrangement just to save us from loneliness. I want you." Jane blushes. "Not sexually. But emotionally. I want to be yours, and for you to be mine."

A thrill ignites within Jane. Jane wants to tell Maura to stop. That it's too much for friends. Because really, Maura Isles doesn't understand where the line between friendship and love is drawn; she never has. Jane is selfish. She's wanted too much of Maura's attention. So Jane does not tell Maura to stop because this is exhilarating and she's too selfish to care about right and wrong when Maura Isles, someone who, on some level, she's always both _wanted_ and _wanted to be_, wants to be hers.

"I want that more than for someone to fall in love with me," Maura adds, and Jane appreciates the way Maura's eyes clear as she speaks, as though Jane has tainted her darkly over the years and finally she is cleansing herself. "That's not settling for second best, Jane. That's knowing what I want. Wouldn't it feel good to know that I'm yours?"

"You're not a possession."

Maura bites her bottom lip. "What if I wanted to be your possession?"

* * *

_Hello?_

_Maura._

_Jane? What's wrong?_

_I feel guilty._

…

_Do you need me to come over? I can come over. _

…

_Jane?_

_I sat in the front row today. Of the church. I sat in the front row with his parents and brother. _

_You were his fiancée. Of course you would sit in the front row._

_Where did you sit?_

_The church was full. I stood. At the back._

_I feel guilty because every time he left, I felt relieved. And today his parents pressured me to sit in the front row and I didn't deserve it. _

_You loved him. _

_He made me feel like a possession, Maura. I didn't love that._

…

_Maura?_

_Yes?_

_He told me that I couldn't stay over with you anymore._

…

_Well, Jane, there wouldn't really be any need for that once you were married unless the circumstances were—_

_I told him that sometimes I just liked to hold you while you slept to know that you were breathing and safe and he told me that couldn't happen once we were married._

…

_He said that it was time for him to hold me as I slept. _

_Are you drunk, Jane?_

…

_He asked me if I had ever thought that maybe I was a lesbian, if you and I had ever crossed the line between friendship and something more. _

_Oh, Jane. It's okay, Jane. We have a close bond, and if Casey didn't understand that, it doesn't make you a poor fiancée. Men sometimes have trouble understanding the intimate relationships that women share and—_

_I told him that he couldn't stop me from spending nights with you, and if he didn't like that, then maybe we shouldn't be getting married. _

_Jane, you shouldn't have done that. _

_Maura. He left the next morning. That was the last thing I said to him before he left for Iraq, before he died. I don't think I was his fiancée. And, today, his mother made me sit in the front row. Maura. I feel so guilty._

* * *

"Don't say stuff like that, Maura."

Jane flicks between channels. News report on a kidnapping. Documentary on whales. A love scene.

"This could be good, Jane. It could be so special."

A crime procedural. Jane throws the remote between them.

"And what happens if a man like Ian comes along and you fall in love? Or I fall in love? What happens then?" Jane asks lowly, her eyes trained on the TV and Maura's trained on Jane.

"Nothing would happen. We'd be committed to each other."

"What if it's life-altering passion?"

"I've had that. It doesn't compare to…this."

Jane hesitates to respond. It's improbable. Highly improbable. But she can't help but wonder. "But if it did…for me?"

Maura releases a deep breath. "You keep asking me all of these questions. I don't like 'what-ifs." "Something tells me that, if you truly weren't considering this, you would have stopped asking questions as soon as I proposed the idea."

"Eugh. Can you not use the word 'propose'?"

"If you could try to stop being so fearful of this, of what you want, perhaps I'd consider it."

Jane cringes at Maura's upset tone. She watches Maura stand and retreat to the kitchen. Jane turns off the TV and follows Maura. Maura turns out the living room light.

_I guess that's my cue to leave. _

Jane reaches for the pizza box and disposes of it.

"I'm not afraid," she mumbles as she turns back to Maura, who is standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway with a defeated expression on her face.

Maura crosses her arms over her chest. "What is it that is keeping you from accepting the fact that this is a genuinely sensible idea? Because the way I see it is that we really don't have any other option that is going to make us happy, together or apart."

"Because it's not real. You want to tell people that we're in love. And we're not."

"Well what does it mean when we only want to spend our lives with each other?"

Jane feels the tears burning behind her eyes. The realisation that she could lose Maura over this becomes apparent.

"It means that I've put you through too much shit, and now you seem to think that you need me, which is ironic because I'm the one who always seems to put you in danger in the first place."

Maura's expression softens and she steps closer to Jane. "You're wrong. That's not the only reason why I need you." Her voice drops to almost a whisper. "But I give up on attempting to persuade you any longer. I'm tired, Jane. I'm going to bed."

The question is greater than impulsive.

"Can I stay over?"

Maura scoffs.

Jane swallows. "I heard it, okay." She shakes her head, trying to make clear this cloud of confusion and desperation and desire. "I heard it," she repeats.

But she doesn't leave right away.

Jane walks to the end of the hall and leans against the doorway of the bathroom as Maura brushes her teeth. She stands, watching her best friend for a moment, trying to convey that she's still there. Always.

"The guilt you're feeling now," Maura murmurs as she rinses her mouth, "…about asking to sleep in my bed…if you agreed to the commitment, you wouldn't feel that ever again."

Jane smiles flatly. "That would be nice."

Maura steps past Jane, and turns the bathroom light out behind her.

Jane turns to look at Maura, who seems to be disappearing.

"I'm not asking you to marry me tomorrow," Maura clarifies as she stands before Jane in the dimly lit hallway. "I'm not clinically insane. I'm just asking for us to be exclusive. To share our commitment with family and friends sometimes soon."

Jane ignores Maura's remark. She's over talking about it. "I'm taking TJ to Boston Common tomorrow morning to go sledding. Want to come?"

Maura nods, the usual happiness devoid in her expression. Jane hates that she's let it come to this, that she kept the prospect of 'the arrangement' alive even in denial. "Yes," Maura answers. "Turn the kitchen light out before you leave, please."

Jane wants to reach out and comfort her friend.

She doesn't dare.

"Good night, Maura."

* * *

Jane watches Maura slide to the bottom of the hill with two year old TJ in her arms. He's laughing, and Maura's smiling, and Jane feels full with joy and happiness. It suddenly occurs to her that this feeling, this overwhelming sense of stability and purpose, is better than anything she's ever felt before. It's a million times better than waking up to find Casey watching her, his sweet, kind eyes so proud of himself. It's almost as good as she felt the day that she graduated from the academy. _Maura makes me happy_, Jane thinks.

_Oh god. I do want this._

"Okay, Auntie Maura is going to have a rest now," Maura sighs happily as she lifts TJ from her lap. Jane scoops him up and he wraps his arms around Jane's neck so tightly that she has to tell him to relax, that they'll race back up to the top in a minute.

"Maura," she starts.

"Darn it, Jane. He stepped in a huge pile of snow at the top of the slope and I think he got snow in his little gumboots. TJ, do your socks feel wet?"

He shakes his head.

"He's okay. Listen, Maur—

"Are you sure, TJ? If your socks are wet, you need to tell Auntie Maura, okay?"

TJ nods.

"I want to do this."

"I know. You should carry him up, though. It's inevitable that he's going to step in that pit again. I'll wait here."

"No. I'm talking about the commitment thing. You and I."

Maura looks up sharply, and her eyes are dark and unreadable.

"I want to do it with you."

All of a sudden, everything is too real. The cold air burns in her throat. Her own socks are wet. Maura's eyes are becoming clearer, clearer, clearer.

Maura's smile spreads higher than Jane has seen it reach in a long time. Too long.

Finally, Jane feels like a weight that was placed in her heart too long ago, before Maura, before Casey, before Hoyt, has been lifted.

Jane can't help but wonder if her newfound awareness that a weight has been lifted has anything to do with the fact that she's found herself standing on a tightrope. Suddenly, balance means everything.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thank you to those who review. I always look forward to reading your thoughts on this story, and I very much appreciate you taking the time out of your day to read and then review. Just a short chapter today, but there will be more very soon! **

**It's been brought to my attention that there are readers (or former readers) who are offended by this story. If this story is not for you, please don't read on. I have attempted to address the issue of homophobia in this chapter, as those who are offended by this story have pointed out as a concern. If this address within the chapter is not enough, again, please do not read on. **

"How many times do I gotta tell you to lock your damn door?" Jane asks as she steps into the kitchen.

Maura fills sports drink bottles with a pale pink liquid that Jane wishes was a smoothie but knows better. "I'll be ready in a minute," Maura murmurs, her focus trained on levelling the liquid perfectly into matching bottles. "I'm making us protein shakes so that they'll be ready when we get back and you won't have to run off to work."

"I don't _have_ to run off to work every time you pull out the protein mixer, I _purposefully_ run off to work. I'm not drinking that crap. I got water. Come on, let's go!"

Maura moans. When she's satisfied after a few minutes, they're out the door and rounding the corner of Maura's street onto Grove Street.

They reach Boston Common in minutes. The winter is coming to an end, but the grass is still covered in a thin layer of snow and Jane can see her breath as she runs, the cool air kissing her cheeks.

Maura suggests that they stop to stretch properly before their three mile run. When she places her foot on the rim of a park bench to stretch her calves, Jane can't help but notice the end of what she knows is a long white scar, her own handiwork.

"Maura, you have to wear longer pants in winter, alright?"

"It's hardly winter, Jane."

Jane reaches around her back to pull at her elbow. "It sure ain't summer."

"I'm thinking of getting a pool in the backyard."

"Where? Your backyard isn't that large."

Maura swings her other foot up to the bench and lunges forward. "Behind the guesthouse."

Jane nods. "That would be nice."

Maura is quiet for a moment. "I like swimming," she shares, and Jane smiles at the timid tone of her voice. "It relaxes me."

Jane looks around the common. On a park bench nearby, a familiar jogger is seated. His face is contorted in pain, but he's nodding slowly to the man whose hands are wrapped around his calf, massaging his leg.

"He sure looks relaxed," Jane chuckles.

"That's Ben and his husband Daniel," Maura tells Jane. "Ben just started jogging after a surgery and he's been getting awful cramps. I showed Daniel how to massage the cramp out last week."

Maura waves at the men, and Daniel waves back, rolling his eyes playfully at Maura as Ben's lips move with instruction. He too notices Maura and gives a short wave.

Jane reminds an enthusiastic Maura to be cautious as she jogs along the wet path of the Common. They laugh about that one time Angela insisted that she join them for a run and slipped on the path they're currently jogging along. And that had been in summer, without the presence of ice or wet ground to instigate her fall.

The jog quietly for a long time, as they always do.

"It's been two weeks and you haven't said anything about starting this," Jane states curiously.

"I wanted to give you some time to make sure." Maura moves closer to Jane, clearing the way for an elderly man coming towards them. "It's a big decision."

"I want to."

Why, Jane doesn't know.

There's something she's been thinking about. Something that she's unsure about. She doesn't know why it's been playing on her mind, but the reality is that it has.

"You don't think that by doing this it's like, homophobic or something?" Jane asks.

Maura keeps the pace. She's always kept up with Jane. Never falls behind. Never runs ahead. In sync. It has never occurred to Jane that she runs a little slower for Maura to keep up with her, and it still doesn't.

"Homophobic?" Maura wonders.

"Well you suggested that we tell everyone that we've fallen in love to kind of…validate what we have. You don't think that's wrong?"

"Maybe," Maura pants. "But we're the only ones who know that it's a facade. We're not hurting or offending anyone. We're just attempting to make it easier for them to understand."

Jane slows to a stop and rests her palms on her knees. It's been a while since they've gone jogging, and the cold is making her palms ache, which always seems to affect the rest of her form. "But we're not gay. Don't you think we're making a mockery of same-sex relationships?"

Maura stands before her and blinks twice in confusion. "I think that we're making a mockery of love, if anything." She pauses for a moment, considering Jane's concern. "But not same-sex relationships," she adds.

Jane takes off. After a second, her subconscious tells her to slow down and allow Maura to catch up.

"Is it the fact that I'm a woman that bothers you?" Maura asks.

Jane turns to meet Maura's eyes, but she's focused on the dirt path ahead.

"No. Of course not," Jane assures her friend. "I mean, it makes it harder, poses more problems, sure. But that wasn't why I didn't commit to this right away."

Jane knows when Maura becomes nervous and insecure. Her hand gestures become accentuated and her speech falters.

Jane watches Maura's right hand wave before her as the doctor emphasises every second word.

"Look, friends-male and female, female and female, male and male—

"Yeah, _people_," Jane adds.

"People, regardless of gender, often have back up plans."

"Hey, ho." Jane touches her hand to Maura's elbow and guides her to the nearest bench. As they sit, Jane realises that they've sat here before, summers ago when Maura had discovered a link to her biological family tree. "Back up plans?" Jane questions casually with interest, albeit a little upset by Maura's choice of phrasing.

Maura shakes her head. "We're more than each other's back up plan, Jane. You know that. For us, there is history and a profound relationship. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I know you want that too. But in a way, and I think I can say this without offending you, you and I being each other's back up plan is also exactly what this is about."

And it's the truth. They've become a clichéd solution to loneliness, whether there are other factors or not. There may find jealousy and possession and a sense of belonging in their relationship, but there's always a bottom line.

"That doesn't offend me," Jane assures Maura. And it doesn't. "You're right. We're each other's back up plan." Jane reaches for Maura's hand. "But I'm really glad that we are."

Maura looks ahead to the main street where people hurry and others dawdle on their way to work, to school, to home. "I want to start soon," she whispers to Jane.

"Okay. I could get on board with that."

"Your mother and brothers are coming to dinner on Sunday. I want us to tell them."

"You don't want to just keep this between us first?" Jane asks, but she isn't quite sure what that would entail.

"Nothing is going to change, so can't see the point in doing that." Jane nods, thinking her question silly. "We may as well tell them so that you can move in with me when you're ready," Maura suggests.

Jane fights to hide her grin. "Oh, is my apartment not good enough for you, Dr Isles?"

Maura's expression falls.

Jane laughs. "I'm kidding. Kind of figured that's what would be happening." Maura's cheeks redden more than they already are.

"So you ready to be my girlfriend?" Jane wonders mockingly with a wink.

It's Maura's turn to chuckle. She squeezes Jane's cold fingers in her own. For a moment, it releases the aching pressure in Jane's hand.

"We'll make it up as we go along, right?" Jane asks hopefully. "Everything stays the same? Like, when it's just you and I, it's not like we're actually dating?"

Maura rolls her eyes and shivers at the cold. "You flatter yourself." Jane smirks. "Of course, Jane. Look, as soon as we tell them that we're a couple, they'll hardly bring it up. We already do everything together. Nothing is going to change, except there won't come a time when we have to…give up each other's attention for someone else. To start over and learn someone knew. We're comfortable. Familiar and safe. Bound to each other, in a way, right?" Jane smiles at Maura's words. The way they fall from Maura's lips makes her feel special, worthy of devotion. "And it's not like they're going to be asking for public displays of affection for evidence of a romantic relationship. Living together will be enough. Plus, give it a few months and the pressure will lift. Our family and friends will get used to it. Things will go back to normal, but they'll have a greater respect for who we are together, regardless not knowing of the type of love that makes us happy."

Jane bumps Maura's shoulder with her own, and grins. "And who are we together?"

Maura stands and places her hands on her hips. The hem of her sports jacket rides up to expose a very thin line of pale flesh. Unconsciously, Jane begins to unzip the windbreaker she has on over three jackets to give to Maura, who should really know better.

"Oh," Maura laughs. "We're deeply in love. Haven't you heard?"


	6. Chapter 6

There are questions that Jane wants answers to. She stands in the shower, her long dark curls matted against her shoulder blades. _Conditioner_, she thinks. I need conditioner.

_Does this mean that we don't date guys? Ever? Maura said she won't, but what about me?_

_Will I ever be kissed again?_

_Will anyone ever see me naked again?_

_Will I ever have sex again, share an orgasm with someone else?_

_What about marriage? She's mentioned it. How long is it going to be before that becomes a noted clause of the arrangement?_

_And what about a kid? _

_Marriage. Babies. _

_What the hell is ma going to say?_

* * *

"Ma?" Jane asks in a low voice that is gravelly and raw. "Are you okay?"

Angela nods, but does not turn around from where she stands over the counter island, dishing leftovers into Tupperware.

"How long have you been keeping this from me, Janie?"

Jane knows that her mother is about to cry.

"Not long," Jane whispers in reply.

Dinner had been normal; Tommy and Frankie showed up to watch the game with her, and Maura had seemed content with Jane's decision to wait until the meal was ready, when they would all be seated around the table together, to bring it up.

_It_.

Tommy had called her out on _it_, claimed that she was joking. Maura's hand had clasped Jane's beneath the table.

_I'm not joking Tommy. _

He still had not believed her.

_Tommy,_ Maura had spoken for Jane. _Jane is being very honest right now._

Frankie's initial expression of shock told her that he believed her. For a moment, his eyes shone with acceptance, and in that moment Jane thought that there was a possibility she could breathe again, that perhaps the blood in her body would one day circulate regularly once more. But then Frankie rested his head in his hands and groaned, and as Tommy watched his older brother's reaction and then, confused, looked between Maura and Jane, Jane told herself that it wasn't worth it. This was a mistake.

Maura squeezed her hand, and it ached from the gentle pressure.

Jane was certain that_ it_ was a mistake when she summoned the courage to look at Angela, who sat as still as Jane had seen her remain in a long time. Her eyes bore into Jane's, and the awareness and disappointment that Jane found there, in her mother's usually warm eyes, sent a shiver down her spine.

"Ma."

"Janie," Frankie interrupted, his head still in his hands. "Just give Ma a minute."

Jane nodded slowly, but reached across the table for her mother's hand, which was warmer than Maura's. Safer than Maura's for entirely different reasons.

"I don't know what to say," Angela confessed as she shook her head, her light hair bobbing around her jawline.

Jane smiled faintly, her eyes locked on her mother's. "That's okay, Ma."

"I want to be happy for you, baby." Angela glanced at Maura. "I promise that I'm going to be happy for both of you."

But the light had drained from her eyes and as her shoulders slumped, the part of Jane that had always looked forward to making her mother proud by one day becoming the kind of daughter Angela had always wished for and never had, punctured itself with the force of deep regret.

As they stand alone in the close confines of Maura's kitchen, Angela whispers her first question.

"Have you always been gay, Janie?"

Jane draws a deep breath, and is surprised that, even though this is incredibly uncomfortable, the guilt is not suffocating her. It's just that she feels so vulnerable, when really, this isn't her reality to feel vulnerable about in the least.

"I just know that I love Maura," Jane reiterates her words from earlier. "I told you that when Tommy asked."

The questions and claims that leave Angela's lips in the mess of confusion are hasty and insensitive. "If it's just Maura, can't you fight it? You two always spent too much time together. You're too old to be wasting time with each other and not out dating. This was bound to happen. I've been so blind. I should have known."

"Maura's my best friend," Jane chokes, and remembers Frankie's immediate expression of shocked awareness. It had matched her mothers, like they both _knew_ it was the truth. Like this _was_ bound to happen.

"But Janie," Angela stresses. "I thought you really did want a husband and babies." Jane hears the voice of reason snicker and say that yes, she stills wants that. That's why this shouldn't hurt the way it does, that she should feel guilty for lying about how she loves Maura, not vulnerable for expressing her love for Maura. But reason is oftentimes so far from the truth, and the voice of reason is muffled by the time is reaches Jane. "Can't you see that this thing you have with Maura is unnatural?" Angela gasps.

Jane's not gay. But this, this claim hurts her, deeply. "Did you really just say that?" she whispers hoarsely.

"I was always okay with it, Jane. With gay people. But when it's your own child who…" Jane feels as though she is watching herself drown. Like she can find the strength to save herself, is strong and powerful, but can't be bothered to prevent horror and sadness. "I can't understand it, Jane," Angela apologises. "I can't yet."

"Can you try? For me?"

Maura steps into the kitchen, and the relaxed expression quickly falls from her face at the sight of Jane's distress.

"Is everything okay?" she asks softly.

Angela won't look her in the eye.

"Angela," Maura starts.

Angela holds up her hand to the doctor.

"Hey," Jane remarks coldly. "Don't you dare hold your hand up to her like that."

Angela closes her eyes and turns her back to Jane again, but not before Jane watches as a single tear run along her cheek. There's a lump in Jane's throat, and it's growing beside the flourishing atmosphere of confusion and humiliation.

Jane catches Maura's gaze as the doctor leans against the counter. She's changed into a white shawl sweater thing, and because of the way the kitchen light catches the highlights of her blonde hair, longer than it's ever been in the time that Jane has known her, Jane thinks that Maura Isles looks divine. Maura is divine. She's divine and fragile and she loves Jane. There really isn't anything that compares to the wholeness Jane flushes with when she meets that hazel gaze.

Jane was wrong earlier, in the moment. It's not a mistake. It will never be a mistake.

_I want this. I want her. _

Maura shakes her head and winks at Jane, mouths 'she's okay' with a smile as she nods her head towards Angela.

Jane leans against the island counter opposite where Maura stands. Next to her mother, who faces Maura's living room that will soon be theirs. Jane releases a breath. She standing in Maura's kitchen with two women who want entirely different futures for Jane. But Jane there's only one future that is right for Jane. There's only one that Jane wants to fight for.

"Ma," Jane starts, her voice rough from the ordeal of the day. "Ma, I'm sorry if I hurt you. But it's going to be okay."

Angela turns around hastily. "You're both so beautiful," she acknowledges with a sob, and anger makes Jane undecided as to whether she should hug her mother to calm her down, or keep her distance. "You could have any man you wanted," Angela adds. "You may never have children," is expressed like a last warning before fire.

Her mother is desperate and in despair. Jane's eyes do not ache to roll.

"We'll have children," Maura states confidently. She steps forward to grasp Jane's cold hand in her own. Angela's eyes shoot down to the intimate gesture.

Misery loves company, and Maura will not let Jane sink to the depths of despair Angela can't seem to pull herself away from to keep her mother company.

Angela blinks at Maura's claim, and Jane knows that there are a number of ridiculous realisations running through her mother's mind that are based on equally ridiculous stereotypes. Proabably something along the line of _Jane is the man in this relationship, so Maura's going to be the one giving birth. Janie's never going to give me a grandbaby._

"You've obviously thought a lot about this whole situation." Angela swats the dishcloth down on the counter next to dishes of ravioli and gnocchi. "Can I ask you something, Janie?" Jane nods, relieved that her mother may be beginning to open up. "That girl," Angela starts, and Jane knows what is coming because she's heard it before. "The one you used to go out and see when you were in the academy, always talked about her—

"Ma, no. We were just friends." Angela raises her eyebrows. "Really," Jane claims. "We were."

A moment passes.

"I'm going to move in here, Ma."

Angela is quiet, until she offers, "I still have some boxes in the guesthouse."

Jane feels Maura's arm slide around her waist and cling to the brunette, her fingernails raking over the satin of Jane's button up shirt at the hip. It feels good. Warm. Just having Maura beside her makes Jane feel taller, but having her arm around her waist makes her feel needed. Like she's in charge and protective. "It would be wonderful if you could help us move, Angela," Maura suggests.

Angela shrugs and tells them that, of course, she will help. That Jane has that much crap and she'd like to give away all of Jane's pots and pans because Carla Tollucci's daughter is moving out for the very first time and she'd at least appreciate them.

Jane rolls her eyes. She catches Maura's smirk in the corner of her eye.

Jane opens a Tupperware container and picks out a ravioli.

"Ahh! Jane!" Angela cries. "That's for Detective Frost!"

Jane groans and closes the lid. Angela moves all of the containers from Jane's reach and works on finding space for them in Maura's very full fridge.

Jane releases a breath that she knows Maura can feel beneath her hand. It's going to be okay.

When Maura's hand smooths around her back, and her fingernails follow, raking away Jane's doubt, the detective shivers. She's been shivering all day, but this…this is different.

This is home.

* * *

"When do you want to start moving in?" Maura asks as she slides into bed next to Jane and turns out the bedside light.

"I've paid rent for the next two months."

"Does that matter?" Maura wonders aloud. Maura's long, silk pyjama pants slide along the length of Jane's smooth calves, and she shuffles back a little bit. "Wouldn't you rather be here with me?" Maura grins.

Jane tucks her hands behind her head at looks up at the ceiling. "My mother and my brothers think I'm gay," she whispers.

Maura sits up and balances on her elbow. She peers down at Jane with a saddened, empathetic smile on her lips. "I think your mother…I have to admit that I thought she would be more open to the idea of us being together."

"I think I may have broken her heart a little bit today," Jane confesses. "It kills me that I did that."

"It's you are not at fault for being who you are, for loving me." Jane can feel the heat of Maura's breath between them. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"I don't love you the way they think I do." Jane wipes a hand over her face. "I told a horrible lie to my mother today." A pause. "I'm surprised that you found it so easy to lie."

"You didn't say that you were in love with me," Maura is quick to counter.

Jane turns to focus on Maura in the darkness. "Yeah I did."

"No, you didn't. You said that you loved me, and that we would be living together," Maura explains. "You never explicitly stated that we were a gay couple."

"Jesus Christ, Maura," Jane groans, and swings an arm out in frustration. Her forearm lands in Maura's hand, but the blonde's fingers do not curl around her. "Is it not enough that they think it?" Jane shifts her arm away. "Because I sure as hell think it's enough. They knew what I meant. My ma even asked me straight out. They think we're gay."

"They think _you're_ gay."

"And, uh, kinda you, too!" Jane adds.

"I never lied and said that."

"What, so you're putting all of this on me now?"

"Hey, don't get angry," Maura whispers softly. She reaches out and runs her hand over Jane's cold, bare bicep. She's cold now, but it won't be long before she gets hot in Maura's bed, the two of them pressed closely together and the thickest duvet she's ever slept beneath. "I was so grateful for what you did today," Maura soothes Jane. "What you did for us. For me."

Jane swallows at the memory and the heat of Maura's breath on her lips. It's like a reflex. It makes her uncomfortable because it's Maura, but it makes her decidedly turned on, too. Why has Maura got to get so freaking close all the time?

"Maybe we should have just told them the truth. We should have just told them that this was about companionship. They would have respected it."

"If we lived together and told people that the truth, that we're just friends, you know what they'd really be thinking. They'd be thinking that you're ashamed, that you were in denial. A closeted lesbian. You saw the way Frankie reacted today. Like he expected it." Jane is quiet, taking in everything Maura has to say, alarmed that she wasn't the only one who noticed Frankie's reaction, and wondering what it means. "Jane Rizzoli is not ashamed to be who she is, regardless of what anyone thinks," Maura continues. "But Jane, you'd be telling the truth, and they'd be making you into someone who you're not. And who you are is incredible. Besides," Maura grins, "What would your mother say when she discovers that you sleep in my bed?"

Jane groans again. She pressed the side of her face into her pillow. "Maura, you know that's just…" she trails off.

"What does it mean when you sleep with me?" Maura whispers softly. Her breath smells like peppermint, and is hot against Jane's clavicle when Maura bows her head in shyness.

"I just like it, okay?" a hot rush of blood warms Jane's cheeks. She's glad that she didn't decide to wear anything else over her singlet. It's too hot for that. "There's not a reason for everything," Jane contests. "It's not like there's anything sexual about it."

She watches Maura bite her lip in the darkness. Hot breath begins to warm her clavicle in uneven breaths. "What are you thinking?" Jane worries.

Silence.

"It's too soon to ask you," Maura whispers.

Jane clicks her tongue in annoyance.

"Okay. So…do you think that maybe there's a possibility that you are in love with me?" Maura struggles to add, "Emotionally?"

The next silence is heavy. Jane feels her heart begin to hammer beneath her rib cage, and her entire body is pulsing to numbness. Her hand reaches for Maura's beneath the covers. "I'm not," she says too quickly. "I'm not in love with you." Jane licks her lips, wishing that she could read Maura's conflicted expression. "But I do love you very, very much."

Maura interlocks their fingers. "I love you, too, Jane." She leans down over Jane, and presses her warm lips just below Jane's cheekbone to Jane's surprise. Maura pulls back a moment later. "I've never had a best friend before, and I've never really had a significant romantic relationship either," she breathes in a rush. Her cold feet press against Jane's ankles. "I know I can be odd. I don't know the rules of friendship and social interactions. I mean…you've helped me over the years. But living so closely together, you'll tell me if I do something wrong, if I cross any lines?"

Jane nods, but she can't find the desire to voice her promise. So she chooses not to. "You can't make any mistakes, Maura," she says instead. This, she promises.

Little was Jane to know that she herself would be the one making every little mistake for the both of them.

* * *

**AN:** Your reviews for the last chapter were so, so lovely. Some of you made some comments in review of chapter five that made me wonder if you had missed chapter four, as they were added a day apart, and I was worried that you may not have noticed, and just read the last chapter. Just letting y'all know in case! Again, thank you to everyone who reviewed and for the very, very kind words of reassurance that you had about this story. Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thank you all for your very appreciated reviews. It is always the nicest gift to get an email notification to say that someone across the world has reviewed something I have written based on characters I love so much. That you are enjoying this story means the world to me, and if you are not, I would really appreciate hearing constructive criticism because my main intention is obviously to give you, the readers, what you want. Happy reading, everyone!

* * *

This is it, Jane thinks as she sits in her car outside BPD, and looks down at the illuminated screen of her phone.

_Maura: I've ordered us chinese. Know you've had a busy…_

Jane can't read the rest of the message unless she unlocks her phone. But if she does, Maura's going to receive the notification that she has. Jane doesn't want that. Jane wants to go back to her apartment and just sit and drink beer by herself. Or maybe go to the Dirty Robber and join Frost and Korsak who left hours ago.

But, now, it's not about what Jane wants anymore.

Jane unlocks her phone to read Maura's message.

_I've ordered us chinese. Know you've had a busy day between handing over keys to your apartment and starting new case, but it's your birthday and everyone has seen you but me. I want to have dinner with you if it's possible?_

Across town, _Read: 9:25pm,_ flashes on Maura's phone below a next text from Jane.

_On my way, thanks Maura._

* * *

Jane pulls up at Maura's when the delivery man does. Well, just after him.

"Hey, let me take that off your hands," Jane smiles as she reaches for the take-out.

The man, who Jane assumes either speaks little English or is just plain rude, shakes his head at her and keeps moving towards the door. "No, I deliver to resident of address."

Jane groans as she follows the man, and realises that this is the guy she pissed off that one time he over charged her for take-out and she complained.

"I live here," she states as they both stand at Maura's front door and Jane presses the bell. "I can just pay you now and you can go."

He ignores her. Jane rolls her eyes.

Maura seems to take forever to open the door. When she does, her hair is pulled back and she's in her yoga clothes, so Jane doesn't complain. She doesn't want to upset Maura's relaxed state.

Maura blinks in surprise at the coincidence of finding two people at her door.

"Thirty- eight sixty," the man tells Maura as he hands her the brown takeout bag.

"Can you tell him I live here, please?" Jane grunts. "He wouldn't let me pay him."

Maura smiles at the delivery man. "It's her birthday, so I'm very glad that you did not allow her to pay you," Maura laughs. The delivery man blinks in disinterest.

Maura hands him a fifty. "Just for future reference though, Jane is my girlfriend. She just moved in last..." He is gone before Maura can finish her sentence.

Jane raises her eyebrows as she locks the front door. "Girlfriend, huh?"

"Does 'girlfriend' make you uncomfortable?" Maura asks casually as she takes the containers from the bags and begins to empty them onto their dinner plates.

"I don't know. Maybe. It just sounds so childish. We're not girls anymore."

"Would you feel more comfortable if I referred to you as my 'ladyfriend'?"

Jane smirks and rolls her eyes. "I was under the impression that you were my partner."

Maura taps a fork against a plate. "You like 'partner'?"

"You don't?"

"It just sounds very professional, that's all." She pours herself a wine. As she takes her seat at the counter island, Jane can feel Maura thinking from across the kitchen. "Lover?" Maura suggests with a flirtatious shrug.

Jane shoots a pointed look at her best friend. "I am literally going to gag if you ever refer to me as your lover."

As she returns the bottle of wine to the fridge, Maura sighs that happy, contented new sigh that makes Jane smile inwardly. Maura is happy. Jane has made Maura happy.

When Maura turns around, she realises that Jane is planning on eating at the counter.

"Excuse me, we are not eating your birthday meal in the kitchen."

"Well where the hell else are we going to eat it?"

"Jane," Maura scoffs. "Come to the dining table, please."

Jane carries both of their plates to where Maura has set two places at the table.

"This is like last year on your birthday," Jane muses.

Maura grins and raises her glass. "Happy Birthday, Jane."

Jane clinks the neck of her beer bottle against Maura's glass. "Happy Birthday to me," she smiles.

"Did you have any trouble handing over the keys?"

"Nope," Jane tells Maura with a mouthful of food. "No problems. Picked up the last box today from Ma's new place and dropped off some stuff she had at mine."

"How was she?"

Jane shrugs. "It's been a month now since we told her. I'd say she's pretty over it since you let her redecorate the guest house before she moved out. Plus, Frankie was there with Alicia, and she kept dropping hints about grandkids. I think we're off the hook with that one for a while. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that she's put more hope into getting grandkids from Alicia and Frankie than you and I," Jane laughs.

Maura is quiet. Jane knows that came out wrong. "Well, I would like to think that she would have some hope in us," Maura remarks as she picks at her honey chicken.

"It doesn't matter what she wants, Maura." Maura looks up at Jane. "We already discussed having kids, and it'll happen, okay?"

Maura nods. They leave it at that.

"I paid the gas bill before work," Jane tells Maura.

Maura looks up in surprise. "We organised a financial plan, Jane. I pay the gas bill, you pay the water bill, I pay the—"

"Calm down. I paid it from our joint account."

"That account is for other expenses."

"I want us to pay for stuff, everything, together from now on, okay? I know that I don't make as much as you do and you want it to be fair, but it is, so no more of you pay this and I pay that. We're not roommates."

Jane doesn't miss the smile that graces Maura's lips. "Thank you, Jane."

And Jane certainly doesn't dare to ask Maura to cut back on shoes.

* * *

"What's this?" Jane asks excitedly when she steps out of the bathroom to find a pale blue envelope on her pillow.

Maura looks sheepish. In only the soft glow of their bedside lamps, Jane can't be certain, but she thinks she sees a hint of a blush on Maura's cheeks, the kind she always gets when she gives gifts.

Jane knows it's immature, but she's been waiting for her birthday present from Maura all day. Maura gives the best gifts. Angela buys her a new set of towels, or bed linens. Frankie buys her a case of beer. Maura gives her racing lessons and collectable baseballs.

Jane peels open the envelope slowly and knows what it is.

"Two tickets." Jane grins down at Maura in their bed. "Where are we going, Dr Isles?" Jane asks cheekily as she leans on the edge of the mattress.

Maura bites at her smile. "Well, why don't you open it and see?"

Jane does just that.

"Paris," Jane exclaims, her voice gravelly in wonder.

Paris. Jane loves Paris. She loves everything about Paris. The history. The culture. The art, even if she won't admit it. But the best thing about Paris is the way that Maura is looking up at her with an expression of hopeful desire.

"We leave next week, for eight days…" Maura states, but it comes out as more of a question.

"Next week? I just took on a case, Maura." Jane can't bring herself to care about work. She hasn't been to Paris since she was twenty three, and she hasn't had a real holiday in years.

"Cavanaugh knows," Maura adds. "I wanted it to be a surprise for you."

Jane reads over the tickets carefully. She meets Maura's eye and beams. Maura laughs.

"I'm so glad that you like it, Jane. I was concerned after I bought them, but I reminded myself of how happy you looked in your photographs from your travels there in your younger days and…I thought that maybe we could try to be together as a couple in public somewhere where there isn't any pressure, no family around to make you feel judged or uncomfortable. Somewhere that you don't have to be a Detective Rizzoli."

Jane places the tickets back into the envelope. "It's a perfect gift. Too, too much, Maura." Jane sits on the mattress and leans across the bed to pull Maura into her arms. "But I will gratefully accept this present," Jane adds as she waves their tickets between them. "And I think that's a good idea for us to try this out in public that isn't so…Boston."

Maura bites her lip again.

"I guess the only problem is that, since you've given me two tickets, I'll have to find someone to come with me."

Jane would not have tried that joke two years ago, because she would have known that Maura's face would have fallen in confusion and misunderstanding of the joke. But now Maura knows Jane so well that she simply purses her lips and shuffles beneath the sheets.

"Well then, I recommend you don't put your name on the advertisement flyers for a travel companion at BPD, because I'm the only one who could stand eight days alone in a foreign country with you."

Jane scoffs good-naturedly, and reaches over Maura to turn out the blonde's bedside lamp. "Please," Jane chuckles as her singlet-clad chest brushes the silk over Maura's breasts, "You've signed up for a lifetime of Jane Rizzoli."

Jane reaches for the switch of her own lamp.

"I haven't signed _anything_ yet, Jane."

Darkness swallows their bedroom before silence does.

* * *

Jane wakes in the morning cocooned in the softest, warmest blankets she's ever slept beneath. The day she moved in for good, for the rest of their lives, Maura had changed the bedding completely, and Jane hasn't slept between 'Maura's sheets' since before she lived there.

Jane doesn't want to get up. She wants to lay there, her muscles tensing tiredly, all morning. She wants to keep her cheek pressed against Maura's silk-clad shoulder, feeling the heat of Maura's body against the side of her mouth. Jane can't remember why she didn't want to come home to _this_ last night.

Jane inhales slowly. Maura smells like coconut and caramel. Jane runs her thumb along the edge of Maura's ribcage, softly, from one bone to the next. Rise, and fall. The silk of Maura's pyjama top tickles Jane's fingertip, and she presses into Maura ever so gently to still the sensation.

Maura shifts in her sleep, and Jane's hand comes to rest too high, just below the swell of Maura's breast. Jane stills as to not wake her, but when Maura is comfortable again, Jane pulls her arm away from around Maura.

Jane runs her fingers through the hair at the top of her head, and stares up at the bedroom ceiling.

They're going to Paris together in seven days. After a moment, Jane reaches for the envelope to look at their departure time. She finds a note in there that she missed last night. Jane opens up the half page to find Maura's handwriting. _Hotel Carte, Deluxe Room. _Beneath were reservation numbers and the hotel address.

Maura's thigh shifts to rest over Jane's, and Jane looks down to see the way the covers rise over their layered limbs. It's a gentle, pleasant weight that always feel right. Natural. Anything but wicked.

It may be the press of Maura's leg over hers, but what comes next is a strange, improper thought. It's the first of all the bizarre, erotic considerations that cross Jane's mind as the prospect of Paris draws closer in the coming week.

_I want to see what she looks like naked in a bed that isn't ours. A bed that isn't home. A bed that I can leave if I need to, want to, have to. A bed that I will leave when it all becomes too much. _


	8. Chapter 8

There is Maura, there is Jane, and there is Paris.

* * *

They end their first full-day in Paris at the Louvre.

A young, flustered British woman is hosting the late-night, English-speaking tour Maura insisted on taking at the prospect of learning more than she already knows about the art housed within the museum. What happens is that Jane now finds herself standing both proudly and sheepishly at the back of the tour group, trying not to cringe each time Maura politely corrects the woman who is very obviously the museum's newest employee.

"Van Dyck created this piece named 'Charles I of England' in 1635, eight years prior to his death."

"Actually," Maura chimes in. "Van Dyck died in 1641."

As an elderly Australian couple turn around and couple roll their eyes for the benefit of the detective and the doctor, Jane reaches for Maura's hand, and squeezes her fingers softly in an attempt to quieten her friend. Her girlfriend. Her partner.

"You can tell me all of the corrections when we leave, okay?" Jane whispers.

Realising her inadvertent rudeness, Maura smiles embarrassedly.

Jane squeezes her fingers once more, a final clasp for reassurance before she lets go. But Jane is surprised when Maura slides her palm against Jane's and intertwines their fingers more comfortably. Jane squeezes back, and doesn't let go.

* * *

Maura models a dress for Jane, who sits on the bed in a tank top, drinking beer and eating a bagel.

"Is it too tight, Jane?" Maura wonders worriedly. "I should have gotten the next size up."

The light fabric clings to everything. It is too tight. Jane would never wear a dress like that. She'd feel indecent. But on Maura, it just looks sexy and classy and fine.

"It's tight. But it looks good. Just don't wear it to church," Jane remarks with a smirk.

In their $300 a night room, they have one English-speaking channel, and 40 channels in French. Jane huffs and leans back against the pristine pillows of their queen sized bed, biceps flexing as she brings the rim of her beer bottle to her lips.

"How would you feel about me wearing a dress like this in public?" Maura asks as she stands before the mirror.

The words ring over a TV report of golf scores recited in French.

"I don't give a damn what you wear in public."

Maura scoffs. Jane watches as her friend pulls the hem of the dress over hips that are narrower than they used to be, and breasts that oddly seem fuller than the last time Jane had _really_ ogled them two months before on a warm fall day when Maura had leant over her desk.

"Once upon a time you tried to cover me up because you didn't want a room full of harmless women admiring my breasts."

Jane eyes Maura sceptically. "I know what you're implying, and you know it wasn't like that. Those women aren't looking at your breasts comparing cup sizes. They were leering because they wanted you, and you weren't even factoring that in. A room full of women may make you feel comfortable to dress like…that, but those women aren't your tea-drinking girlfriends, Maura."

"They might like tea. And I already have a girlfriend."

Jane rolls her eyes.

Standing before Jane in just a pale blue lingerie set, Maura clicks her tongue. "You're one to talk."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't think you were comparing breast cup sizes when I had to get your attention in that lesbian bar."

Jane grins and shakes her head. She takes a swig of her beer again. "Whatever, Maur."

"Mhmm," Maura calls as she closes the bathroom door behind her. "Whatever."

* * *

Jane watches as a middle aged man dips a much younger girl in a kiss.

Maura's face is buried in a tourist map, focused on assisting the American college boy who had approached them and asked for directions. A lesson in French grammar and ten minutes later, Maura was still engrossed in trying to locate a specific street on the map for the boy.

So Jane watches with judgement and disgust as the man with a wedding ring pulls the girl without a wedding ring, who can't be older than twenty-three, towards the wall of the Pont Alexandre III bridge, presses her against it, and kisses her passionately.

Does Maura expect something like that from Jane? Is that what she's waiting for next? How far will they have to go in Boston make this commitment believable?

Her back is to the doctor and the boy, but she hears the play in his intention as she watches a married man kiss an innocent girl.

"I wish I could thank you somehow. You've been really helpful…" the boy hesitates in question of Maura's name.

"Maura."

"I'm Brad."

"Well, it was lovely to meet you Brad."

There is a pause.

"Are you in Paris alone?"

"No." Jane imagines that Maura is gesturing to her turned back.

"Well, if your friend is ever busy at night, or during the day or whatever, I can give you my number and you could call me. I just got a French SIM and I don't really know if it works, but—

"That's quite alright, Brad."

"Are you sure? I can write it down."

"Thank you, but Jane and I have quite a busy itinerary for our trip, don't we, Jane?"

What Jane _wants to do_, what she would do back home in Boston if they were just Maura and Jane like they used to be, is tell this boy that he's too young. Bye, bye. Maura Isles is a doctor, the State Medical Examiner. She doesn't have flings with anybody like this boy because Dr Isles is poised and affluent and too good for him.

What she _should_ have done moments ago was turn around and tell him to back off, tell him that Maura is her girlfriend and she's certain Maura won't need his number for anything as long as Jane is within a 100 mile radius.

Instead, what Jane responds with is a distracted, "What?"

Maura's facial expression falls in disappointment, and when Jane turns to them, she knows that Maura is aware that she was listening the whole time.

What bothers Maura more than Jane not staking her claim as her girlfriend, is that she didn't even bother to play the jealousy card she's played for the last five years.

* * *

Maura is quiet when they visit Notre Dame Cathedral.

"It'd sure be nice to get married here, wouldn't it?"

Maura shrugs and tilts her head back to admire the architecture of the high ceiling.

"Are you angry at me because I didn't tell him we're involved?" Jane wonders.

Maura takes a moment to consider her response. "Are we?" she bites back. "Let's just leave and have lunch somewhere."

Jane reaches for her arm and pulls her into a section of the Cathedral where there are less tourists and more statues.

"What do you mean 'are we?'" Jane asks her in a quiet whisper. "Of course we're involved."

Maura rolls her eyes and forces herself to express what she needs to get off her chest. "Ever since we've arrived, you've been snappy with me. You won't even hold me when we sleep, and that's in private."

"It's been hot here, Maura, and we've been sleeping in _very little_ clothing."

"I don't care. I know that you want to hold me, and you're avoiding me."

"I've spent every day and night with you for the last six days!"

Maura huffs. "Ever since I made that comment, _a joke_, about you looking at my breasts that time in the lesbian bar, you've been distant."

Jane pulls her shoulders back. "I am not going to talk about _this_ in a church."

"Well then stop," Maura demands, a gentle whimper in her tone that makes Jane's heart beat slow in guilt of the hurt she's caused this woman. "Stop being so opposed to the idea of being attracted to me, because whether or not you are—

Jane interrupts Maura with a scoff that she can't strangle.

Maura blinks twice, and her face sets hard, determined. "Okay, you're not attracted to me. I know that, I do. It makes you uncomfortable to talk about me as any more than your friend, regardless of the profound way that you're attached to me—which I find ironic—but it has to stop now. This is not going to look the way we want it to look if you are so repulsed by the idea of us as sexual partners, because that is exactly how it is going to appear. So you need to get over it if you want to continue to love me the way that you do."

Jane swallows harshly.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

As usual, that is all the apology Maura needs. "Thank you. Now let's go and eat."

* * *

At three am, an empty bottle of champagne sits neglected at the foot of their bed.

"I had a one night stand in Paris when I was twenty-three," Jane confesses. "It was pretty lacklustre."

"With a man?"

"Maura!" "Of course it was with a man!"

Maura grins audaciously. "Tell me about the best sex you've ever had."

Jane laughs and rolls her eyes. She shifts against the headboard, the smooth skin of Maura's bare thigh hot against her own. "You go first," Jane whispers as she plays with the hem of her boxer shorts.

"Okay." Maura's knee shifts, and Jane watches as Maura toys with the lace hem of her cream-coloured camisole just as she drunkenly watches Jane play with a loose thread on her own shorts. "It was with Ian, in September 2003, in a tent in Africa."

"So the last time you had great sex was in a tent in Africa ten years ago?"

Maura brings the champagne flute to her lips. "I've had great sex since 2003. But I certainly haven't orgasmed the way I did since that night."

Jane scoffs. "How very 'Out of Africa'."

"It was hot. Raw. Passionate. He was insatiable."

Jane groans. "Please stop."

"Your turn."

"Okay. It was when I was in the academy."

Maura waits. Jane blinks at her in question. "What? That's all you're getting! You didn't give me any details!"

"You asked me to stop!"

"Okay, fine. You tell me one detail, and I'll share too."

Maura finishes the champagne left in her glass and leans forward on all fours to peer over the end of the bed at the empty wine bottle. Dissatisfied, she places the glass on the floor and reclines at the end of the bed. Jane is too engaged in Maura's drunk, sultry gaze as she props herself up on her elbow to see the way the hem of her thigh-length camisole rides all the way up to the line of her lacy panties. "Well," Maura starts, "he undressed me and then I knelt on the floor in front of our two large knapsacks and he penetrated me from behind while he stimulated my clitoris."

Jane immediately feels dizzy. "Did you really just…? I asked for one detail. To make it even. I didn't ask for the fucking Kama Sutra."

Maura chuckles proudly. "Your turn."

"I will tell you that it was in _a bed_. And that's all you're getting." Jane pauses as Maura's eyelids droop closed in drunken fatigue. "You've been with a woman, haven't you?"

Maura laughs, her lids still closed. "No."

"No?"

Maura opens her eyes, and they are hazy with amusement. "I haven't."

Jane shrugs. "Well I know you can't lie, so I believe you."

A pause. "You seem surprised."

Jane smirks. "You seem…worldly."

"Worldly?" Maura laughs.

Silence.

"Have you ever wanted to be with a woman, Jane?"

Jane knows where this is going. She can't avoid it after what happened that morning in the cathedral, but she's not going to let Maura steer this the way she wants to. "To have a relationship with a woman?" Jane asks dumbly.

"A relationship…or just sex."

"Not a relationship. Maybe sex. No," she retracts her statement. "I think I've wanted to kiss a woman. But nothing more," Jane answers honestly.

"You've never wanted to touch a woman?"

"Not really. I haven't thought about it." _Before we left, I did think about what you would look like naked in this bed. But I'll keep that to myself._

"I have."

"Thought about it?"

"Yes. And wanted to touch a woman."

_Who? _"I get it. Women look good." Jane remembers Maura's words that morning, recalls Maura pointing out her discomfort with being a gay _couple_. "Do you think we seem gay enough to everyone?"

Maura hesitates, and Jane knows that the answer is 'no'. "I think we appear to be in love," Maura replies. "But we should be working on it. That _was_ the purpose of coming here," she yawns as Jane watches Maura's elbow collapse upon the mattress in exhaustion and Maura gives in to the night.

* * *

This time, Jane is the one who brings it up. They're five hours into their flight back to Boston when the cabin lights dim dramatically. Jane restlessly shoves the complementary airline pillow into the corner of her first-class seat and turns to Maura.

"I feel like we didn't do what we went to France to do."

Maura clicks her tongue haughtily, but her eyelids remain closed. "I knew you would regret not taking the river cruise. I _told _you, Jane."

"No. The 'us' thing."

Maura is suddenly awake. "Oh. You're right."

"I know that I kind of let you down these past three days ever since we had the…_discussion_ in the cathedral. I don't know if you've been waiting for me to make a move or something. But it's just hard. We're not actually gay. I'm already as close to you as I need to be. There's nothing more that I want."

"You held my hand," Maura interrupts, knowing Jane has more to say but not wanting to hear about the limit of what she wants from the doctor.

"I hold your hand all the time in Boston. I know you wanted to practice more than that."

Maura chooses her words carefully. "I have been waiting for the right time to make a move, too. It's not just you."

Paranoid, Jane looks over to the business man in the seat closest to them. If he can't hear them, nobody else can. "Wait…what do you mean by 'make a move'?"

"What do you mean?" Maura ventures.

"I mean kissing, Maura."

Maura abruptly turns her head looks down the aisle. Jane cranes her neck in an attempt to learn why Maura has ignored her statement. The only interesting thing happening is that two flight attendants, a bald middle aged man and a female flight attendant who looks like a runway model are engaged in a deep discussion by the kitchen entrance.

Apparently, Maura hasn't ignored Jane at all. "The next time that female flight attendant passes, I'm going to kiss you."

Stiffly, Jane nods. "Okay."

The flight attendant does not pass them for thirty minutes. Jane is anxious and not hiding it well. Maura announces that she is going to the lavatory.

Jane looks back down the aisle. The male flight attendant is coming towards her.

"Excuse me," Jane stops him. "Will the other flight attendant be passing soon?"

The man shakes his head. "She will be attending to Economy for the duration of the flight," he informs Jane in an American accent. "Was there something that you needed?" Jane shakes her head and thanks him. "If there is anything that you do need," he continues, "feel free to ask Scottie or myself," he offers with a nod to another male flight attendant Jane has only just spotted on the other side of the plane.

Jane is quiet when Maura returns.

"Did she pass while I was gone?" Maura asks, her features puzzled.

"She's gone to economy," Jane replies as she stares out the window into blackness.

The turbulence sign lights up and pings.

Maura licks at her lips. "Oh," she whispers as she locks her seatbelt around her waist.

* * *

When Angela and Frankie Jr pick them up at Logan Airport, Jane hugs Angela and Maura hugs Frankie, but not once do Maura and Jane share that first kiss they'd gone to Paris to practice for the benefit of their family, and the benefit of themselves.

Practice makes perfect, Jane reassures herself as they fall into their own bed and Jane's bare calf slides against Maura. They just need more time.

In Jane's arms, Maura falls asleep grieving lost opportunity, wondering when their time to practice is going to run out.

Little does she know, it already has.

* * *

**AN:** Yes, I am a monster. A very sorry monster. The past few weeks have been quite terrible (re: devastating) to my personal life, so writing of any kind has been impossible for me. I am deeply committed to this story, and will never abandon it. I promise. I realise that this is the only story to this fanfiction account and your trust in me as a fanfic writer may be lacking, but I have written an extensive number of very lengthy multi-chapter stories for other fandoms in the past and can proudly say that I have never left one unfinished. If that gives you faith, please take it!

Thank you so much to all who have reviewed. Never again will there be a break between chapters as long as this one has been, I promise.

However, I would like to say something in regard to one offensive comment that I received last week. I feel that if I don't, it's disrespectful to myself. This was the review: Ironic really how the title of this fic is exactly what you can't really keep. A commitment to continue something you started.

Reviews like these are rude, and do not motivate me to show anons up and post chapters immediately. If I had written a chapter that day, I would have posted it regardless of receiving a comment like this, as I would never hold chapters hostage from dozens of you just to fight against one rude reviewer. But if a chapter is unwritten, a review like this one certainly wouldn't motivate me to get writing, put it that way! I was offended by this review, as I am very much committed to this story and have many chapters to share with you. However, please keep in mind that writing a chapter doesn't take ten minutes. To write a chapter like this generally takes 6-7 hours of complete focus, and finding that time has been very difficult in the past few weeks. So, cruel reviewer, being rude won't do you any favours!

Long authors note is long.

Thanks again to my kind, committed readers! You are a wonderful fandom, and I enjoy writing for you as often as I can!


	9. Chapter 9

It is only two weeks after their return from Paris when Jealous Jane appears again, for the first time real time since their friendship ended, and their relationship began.

Maura is leaning against the vanity in her bathroom, applying eyeliner for work, when she sees Jane appear behind her in the reflection of the mirror.

"There's a man at your door."

"_Our_ door."

Jane watches Maura raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow in the reflection. Maura had been blow-drying her hair when the doorbell rang, Jane realises.

Jane nervously lowers her stare to the hem of Maura's black leather skirt, the one with the cut so high that it drives Jane crazy. It's how the uniforms stare that makes her mad. It's the way that even Frankie drops his gaze that irritates her. Jane swallows over the lump in her throat. "It's Father Brophy, Maura."

Their gazes catch in the mirror before Jane turns, and Maura isn't blind to the hot darkness of Jane's worried glare.

Jane is quiet while she sips her coffee in their kitchen for longer than usual. She lingers, listening to their conversation about the church and Daniel's trip to Vatican City and the art galleries of Rome. Maura is the one who tells Daniel that they've just returned from Paris, and when he asks Jane what she thought of the city, she answers all of his questions as succinctly as possible.

He doesn't get it, Jane realises as she watches Maura lean over the island counter and pass Daniel an espresso that just took her fifteen minutes to make (Jane had been watching the clock just as much as she'd been watching the way Maura's smile had almost reached her ears). He doesn't realise that they're dating, that they are a couple now. Jane wants him to know about them when she catches his gaze briefly fall to Maura's cleavage as the blonde covers her face to laugh at something he's said about hot-blooded Italians.

"No offence to you, Detective," the gentle man pauses with a friendly smile. "Boston Italians and Italian Italians are very different people."

"You are very different, Jane," Maura assures her. "Hot-blooded, but very different."

Jane waves her hand jokingly and reaches for her keys. "Well, if there's anyone I can trust to tell me how hot-blooded I am, it's you, Dr Isles."

_Maura slips in beside her late at night._

_"Your feet are freezing", Jane groans as Maura reaches for Jane's arm._

_"No", Maura whispers as she reaches to turn out the bedside lamp. "You're just warm all over."_

_"It's because you bought bedding fit for Eskimos." Jane presses her forehead against the curve of Maura's shoulder._

_"It's because you're Italian."_

_They laugh._

The tilt of Maura's head and her quizzical stare immediately tells Jane that she's said the wrong thing. The words and their implication go straight over Daniel's conservative head, but they don't have to. Jane pauses and waits for Maura to direct the conversation in the way Jane has had to in front of her mother and her brother and her colleagues the last few weeks.

But for the woman who, of the two of them, is most desperate to feign intimacy, Maura does not attempt to clue Daniel to the fact that they are lovers. Partners. Girlfriends.

What Maura says is, "We do work together, Jane. And you are very passionate about your work," with a flittering laugh.

By the door, Jane bites her lip and waits for Maura to meet her gaze. When the blonde does look up, her eyes are unreadable. Jane nods once, and leaves without saying goodbye.

Jane ventures down to Maura's office after lunch. She spots Maura in the morgue, and sees the woman in scrubs look up from an autopsy as Jane drops a file on her desk.

"Jane," Maura calls, and Jane hears the clatter of instruments being replaced on their tray. Jane ignores the call of her name, but Maura catches the detective on her way past the morgue door.

"Are you upset with me?" Maura asks as she round the corner into the hall, gloves still on, the tips dark with brown blood.

Jane shrugs, the tightness of her bright blue t-shirt slick against her abdomen like a second skin.

"Well that's very mature of you to refrain from speaking."

Jane rolls her eyes, hurt by the fact that Maura seems to have no idea what she's done wrong.

Maura blows at a stray piece of hair that has fallen in her eye line. "I'll be home late tonight. Daniel has asked me to dinner."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You're going on a date with your ex?"

"He's a priest, Jane."

"That didn't stop you before."

"_What did you think of me back then?" Maura wonders in the dark safety of Jane's bedroom."Before we were really friends?"_

_Hoyt has another apprentice out for Jane, and although Jane spent that evening teaching Maura how to fire a handgun, she's asked Maura to bring the gun with her into the bedroom and lay down with her for a moment under the guise of "You need sleep, too."_

_Jane's breath is hot against Maura's chin. "I was kind of intimidated by you. You were wild in a quiet way. You seemed _beyond _everyone else. I know that doesn't make sense, but…you just were."_

"_I was wild?"Maura whispers, and Jane doesn't miss the hint of excitement in her voice. _

"_You were sleeping with a priest."_

_They are silent._

"_Did you love him?"Jane asks. It's not something she'd usually dare to ask, but the darkness of their second sleepover is providing a cover that is allowing Jane to form a real friendship, the best kind of friendship, with this woman who always seemed so cold and emotionally-stunted. _

"_Yes," Maura confesses, and Jane gets the feeling that Maura hasn't had a real friend to share these kind of things with in a long time, if ever. " I loved how gentle he was with me. But I also loved the way he saw me."_

"_How did he see you?"_

"_Like I was his saviour and his temptress all at once."_

_Jane sighs, and a bolt of irrational jealousy filters through her. "I think you were more than that to him."_

"_I know. He wanted to make me feel safe, but I don't think he knew how to." _

"_How do you mean?"_

"_He was always so haunted after we made love. He was so guilt-ridden. And I don't think he knew how to guard his emotions to keep that from me. This is going to sound so vain, but it was wonderful for him to be with me. To find pleasure with me. But it was too much for him. I think he was scared by the enormity of a woman's love, of what it could mean to him, and what it could threaten." _

_Jane swallows. Who knew that Doctor Isles was so troubled? It seems bizarre to Jane that a man could consider leaving a woman like Maura for anything after he'd had her. Maura Isles was the perfect woman, everything that was the opposite of the kind of perfect Jane thought she herself was closer to. Were men intimidated not only by Maura' intelligence, but her physical beauty, too? _

"_Making love to someone you're not supposed to is scary," Jane whispers in response._

"_I was never supposed to make love to Daniel. But I did."Maura's words are heavy and troubled, and they almost sound as though they're asking for forgiveness without Maura's permission._

"_You don't have to apologise for that. Not to me, Maur." Jane sighs softly. "On some level, I get it. I really do."_

Maura comes home after dinner with Daniel to find the house in darkness. Jane isn't home.

Maura removes her makeup, brushes her teeth, and slides into bed with a book.

She considers texting Jane to ask where she is, but she knows Jane's at The Dirty Robber, probably with Frankie and Frost and Korsak, and Maura's too angry with Jane to stoop to texting Jane first.

Maura slides lower in bed, and finds her toes tangled in soft material. She hooks her toe into a sleeve and drags her leg up the mattress to pull one of Jane's tank tops from beneath the covers. Maura tosses it onto Jane's side of the bed, and sees the headlights of Jane's car as an engine cuts outside.

"Maura?" Jane calls as Maura hears the lock of the front door turn.

"I'm in bed."

When Jane steps into the bedroom in her work clothes, Maura is surprised to find that Jane's demeanour is pleasant and calm.

"Were you at The Dirty Robber?"

"Yeah. How was your date?"

"Dinner was fine, thank you."

Jane sits on the corner of the bed to remove her work boots, her back turned to Maura. "I'm not comfortable with you spending time with him. I can't get the image of you in this bed with him out of my head and I just…I don't want you to see him again. I'm not telling you that you can't, but I want you to know that I don't want you to."

"He's my friend, Jane."

"He's not your friend, and you know it. Were you attracted to him?"

Maura pauses. She cannot tell a lie. "Of course I was attracted to him."

Jane ignores the answer that she knew was coming. "What did he want to talk about?"

Maura sits up on her knees and shuffles across the mattress to sit beside Jane. "He's thinking of leaving the church."

"For you?"

"For himself."

Jane huffs and throws her head back to look up at the ceiling. "This is what I meant. This is the kind of thing that was bound to happen."

"I don't want to be with him," Maura whines in assurance.

"Yes. You do."

"No. I don't want to be second best."

"Hello?" Jane gestures between them, "What do you think this is?"

"This isn't second best. He chose the church. You chose me over any opportunity that may come your way."

"So…nothing. You're saying that I chose you over nothing. Because no more opportunities are coming my way. But you certainly have many opportunities coming your way."

"He isn't an opportunity, Jane!"

"He is for sex!" Jane rises from the bed and paces manically before Maura. "And I just can't get that out of my head and I don't know why it's making me so mad and I feel betrayed, and I shouldn't because I don't even like you that way, I'm not attracted to you at all, but I just can't live like that." Jane fusses with the distraction of trying to open her belt buckle. "I can't live waiting for the day when you come to me with another proposal, the kind that sounds like, 'Hey, Jane. Let's keep this as it is, a real 'commitment', but let's get our rocks off with men in the meantime.'"

Maura tilts her head again, and her confused expression is clouded by betrayal and pain. "How could you think that of me? That I would choose sex over the love I feel with you? Are you trying to push me away?"

Jane swallows. "I'm still not sure that you're sure. We've been together for almost three months, and everything just seems so messy. We went to Paris and we had a great time. But we didn't…"

Maura watches as Jane brings a hand to her forehead. She closes her eyes and reaches blindly for the bed.

"Are you alright?" Maura whispers as she rests a hand against the side of Jane's neck, more for comfort than to feel her pulse.

"I feel lonely," Jane announces suddenly. "And I never thought I would feel that with you."

Maura takes a moment to consider Jane's honest words.

"I make you feel lonely."

"No. I just feel like you…

"What?"

"I feel like I'm not making you happy like I used to."

The soothing press of Maura's warm lips on Jane's neck sends a spark of arousal through Jane, and she shakes it off as a reflex to anybody's lips on _that_ spot. Jane turns her neck, but Maura continues to press kisses along Jane's skin to where the edge of her t-shirt meets shoulder. Up and down, tight and soft.

"I'm not in love with him, Jane. I want you. You make me feel safe. And I am happy with you. So happy, sweetheart."

"Did you kiss him?" Jane dares to ask.

"Of course not," Maura replies sharply.

"Of course not!" Jane mocks teasingly, matching Maura's tone.

Maura pulls back quickly, and the anger of her gaze pierces through Jane. "Don't pretend that you would have been okay with it."

"What did you tell him about us?" Jane bites back.

"I told him that you were my girlfriend."

"Did he get it?"

Maura shifts closer on the bed and drops her gaze. "If you are asking if he understood the implication that we live in the same house…" Maura's dainty middle finger traces over the back of Jane's hand, pressed against the mattress and holding her up, "That we sleep in the same bed, and know each other…intimately, yes. He 'got' it. And he didn't pry, Jane. He isn't like that."

"Yes," Jane agrees. "But you do have a habit of over sharing."

"Well, I can't lie. And there is nothing to over share at this point." Maura's fingernail draws a line over the length of Jane's elegant index finger. "We haven't even kissed yet."

"Mmm," Jane hums, closing her eyes at the sensation. "Doesn't compare, does it? I suppose if you told him the extent of how intimately we know each other, that all we do is sleep together, we would have seemed ridiculous. I'm sure you did a lot more with Father Brophy than kiss.

"What I had with him…" Maura trails off, watching the way Jane's expression morphs into one of pure pleasure and serenity at her simple touch. "It doesn't come close to this. With him, there was always a sense of guilt. I was always wondering what he was thinking. With you, I never have to wonder."

"Oh really, Doctor Isles?" Jane falls back against the mattress in defeat, and Maura shifts with her, her fingernails lightly scratching up the length of Jane's forearm. "Am I no longer an enigma to you?"

"No. You aren't."

"Touche. With you and your fun facts, at least I'm committed to a woman who says what she's thinking."

"I don't tell you everything, Jane."

Jane fights the impulse to open her eyes at the statement, and keeps them closed as she feels Maura return to her side of their bed.

"Don't fall asleep in your work clothes, Jane."

"I won't."

Jane falls asleep in her work clothes, and wakes forty minutes later when she rolls over and her opened belt buckle presses into her hip.

_I don't tell you everything._ The words play on Jane's mind as she reaches a hand between her abdomen and the mattress and simply shifts the buckle, too tired to undress. The detective wonders what Maura has kept from her, what Maura is still keeping from her. What couldn't Maura tell Jane? What wouldn't she want to tell Jane?

The covers shift, but Jane stays still. She feels still. She feels cheated, too. Somehow, if Jane moves, Maura will know. She'll know that Jane is lying awake, chewing her words over and over. Jane hates herself for thinking that if Maura knows she's awake, Maura will win. Because they're not like that. They have never been about winning or losing, or someone having the upper hand. Why, Jane wondesr, does it suddenly feel like they are?

Maura's whimper is so very soft that, had Jane not been listening for, and trying to regulate her own breathing, she would have missed it. And if Jane were sleeping like Maura thought, she would never had known that such a whimper existed.

But now, Jane knows. She knows that kind of whimper, and recognises it for what it means when the scratch of Maura's nails against their satin sheets gives her away.

Jane squeezes her eyes shut in discomfort. Why can't Maura do it in the shower like Jane does? She can be as loud as she wants in there.

Briefly, Jane considers rolling over and whispering, "Maura, I'm awake." But she imagines that pretending to remain asleep, to just roll over, shift and sigh and feign unconsciousness, would be better. Easier. Maura would hopefully stop, and neither of them would have to face the embarrassment. Not that Jane thinks Maura would be overly embarrassed to be caught with her fingers in her panties.

Jane continues to lay there, stunned and still, pondering what to do while Maua gets closer and wetter.

It's been four months that we've been sleeping together, Jane realises in the silence. It is in that moment that Jane realises how stupid she has been. Of course, at some point, this was bound to happen. It could have happened even sooner.

Maura has not made another sound, but Jane just _knows _that Maura isn't finished yet.

Jane imagines the heat beneath the covers, but she does not imagine a body shifting and falling gently on the mattress as Maura arches in release.

Jane lies there for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts, to sort through them and decide which ones are shock, which are understanding, and which are excitement.

The most surprising thing to Jane is not that, after a minute, Maura's warm foot slides between hers. It is not that Maura's sweaty forehead presses against the base of Jane's skull, either. The most surprising thing about the whole experience of hearing Maura come is that, strangely, Jane is left feeling completely inadequate, and a little bit desperate, too.

**AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please read and review to let me know how you're feeling about the pace of the story and what our girls are getting up to! **


	10. Chapter 10

On Sunday morning, Jane finds Maura gardening in the courtyard. Jane stands in the doorway of the front door in her pyjamas and smiles as she watches Maura dig up soil on all fours.

"Are those my jeans?" Jane asks, her voice gravelly, and Maura looks up at her, surprised to find Jane awake so early on her only day off of the week.

Maura rolls her eyes and fights to hold back a smirk. "No, these are not _your_ jeans. I do own jeans, Detective."

Jane feigns surprise. "I had no idea, _Doctor_."

"You're awake early," Maura comments.

"Well, I rolled over and you weren't there, and then I thought maybe you'd been called in to work…"

Maura raises her eyebrows. "Without waking you? Hardly."

"Okay, I was curious where you'd gone to. I didn't feel you get out of bed." Jane releases a heavy breath. "So, you going to get Korsak to come over and help you plant your beets?"

Maura misses the joke. "I prefer to garden by myself. I have recently found it to be quite calming."

Jane grins at Maura's focused determination. "Am I interrupting your planting zen?"

Maura shoves a spade into the dirt and leans back on her heels. She focuses her attention on Jane. "Not at all," she assures Jane, and her genuine smile is so sweet and pure that Jane can't help but wonder how this woman has overcome _everything. _

Jane retreats to the kitchen, and stands in a trance as she watches the espresso machine steam. She thinks about the letters she found months ago, and how she accused Maura of writing to Ian. She considers how distant she was with Maura last week when Daniel showed up out of the blue. She remembers Maura sliding down a snow-clad hill with TJ in her arms, and briefly thinks that Maura would be a glowing mother. When Jane returns to the sun-drenched courtyard with two cups of coffee, her mind is still wandering, lost in a world of concern. At what point in recent time did Maura need to find solace in digging up the earth?

Jane places Maura's mug on the upraised concrete rim of the flower bed. Maura smiles her appreciation, wipes her dirty hands on her thighs, and brings the lip of the cup to her mouth.

"You look good in my jeans," Jane playfully remarks as she takes Maura in, blue denim jeans, a grey v-neck shirt that this time Jane is _sure_ belongs to her, and long, blonde hair tied high upon her head.

Confused, Maura narrows her eyes at Jane. "These aren't your…" Realisation dawns. A joke. Jane made a joke. Jane smirks. "Thank you, Jane."

Maura takes a break from standing and sits beside Jane on the outdoor bench. The denim of Maura's jeans press against Jane's bare knee and Jane subconsciously shifts closer to Maura.

"Mmm," Jane continues, the potential humor of the impending joke she's about to make harmless in her mind. "I sure could have done a lot worse."

"Excuse me?" Maura asks.

"For a girlfriend. I mean, at least you look better than I do in my jeans, right? I scored with you."

Maura turns her body on the seat, and blinks twice at Jane.

"I'm joking," Jane clarifies. "It was just a joke."

"It's a joke that I'm attractive?" Maura states rather than questions.

Jane cringes. She blames hindsight for always keeping its mouth shut until after the fact. "No, I…" Jane scratches at the back of her neck. "Forget it."

A shy, confused silence settles between them.

"So what are you planting?" Jane asks.

At least awkward silences with Maura don't run on and on when the woman can fuse science with _everything. _Maura runs off into a long rant about the Boston climate and soil particulates, and Jane nods as she watches a bead of sweat run down the valley between Maura's breasts. Jane tears her gaze away, albeit subtly, and tries to block the memory of covers shifting as Maura laid beside Jane and brought herself to orgasm a week ago. Things have changed, Jane realises. Things have changed in a very big way. Maura is no longer Jane's best friend, or Jane's person. Maura isn't the sister Jane never had, and she's not just a source of comfort for Jane to protect with a mighty fist. Maura is the object of Jane's devotion now, and Jane has no idea what she wants to do about it.

"Anyway," Maura carries on, "I always wanted a large backyard as a child."

Jane watches as Maura bends her knees and swings her calves up to rest beside her on the bench. "You didn't have one growing up on the Isles Estate?"

"The Isles Estate?" Maura rests her head on Jane's shoulder. "We lived in a very small chateau in Nice until I was seven, and then my parents purchased a modest home in Heathcote before I went to boarding school." Maura runs a fingernail over the stitching of the hem of Jane's boxers, and Jane tries not to shudder or squirm. "You knew that, Jane."

Jane releases a troubled breath as Maura stands and returns to the garden. She watches as Maura pinches the cotton of the t-shirt between her cleavage and puffs at a fallen piece of hair across her cheek. "God, it's getting warmer."

Jane leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "Yeah, well for also being in the northern hemisphere, Paris was a hell of a lot hotter than Boston."

"Did you enjoy Paris, Jane?" Maura wonders.

"I did," Jane assures Maura. "I enjoyed Paris a lot."

Jane watches as Maura bites at her lip, and Jane doesn't miss the way Maura's expression clouds with worry, either. "You okay, Maur? I thought gardening was supposed to relax you?"

"My mother phoned this morning from Paris." She hesitates before continuing. "She'd like to visit when she's in Boston next."

"When is she coming here?" Jane asks.

"In two weeks."

Jane raises her eyebrows and grins. "I'm surprised that you're not already running around like a mad woman preparing fancy meals, but you don't have to be nervous. Constance isn't all that terrifying."

Maura huffs and comes to sit next to Jane on the bench. Jane ignores the quick thrill that shoots through her when Maura pulls her gardening gloves off again and grasps Jane's hand in both of hers. It's nice to feel needed after all…

"If you're still not ready, we can wait." Jane shakes her head in confusion, but also dismissal of the consideration that she's not ready for whatever Maura's talking about. "I want my mother to be proud of me," Maura emphasises with a shake of Jane's hand. "I want her to see that I am loved." Jane raises her eyebrows. She watches the battle in Maura's eyes. _'It's all or nothing'_ is the thought that wins."I need it to be very apparent to my mother that you are more than just my friend, Jane. If you're not ready to do this yet, then I would appreciate it if you stayed elsewhere while she's here. I'm sorry if that sounds…"

"No, it's fine," Jane is quick to assure Maura. "I told my ma, Maura. I can tell yours."

There's a flicker of doubt in Maura's eyes, and Jane's blood boils. _She doesn't trust me to keep her happy and safe and loved. _

"Hey," Jane whispers, and her voice drops so low that Maura looks up, startled. "I know we came pretty far with this and things have recently…gone a bit downhill. But no more backtracking, okay? I'm done with going backwards. I promise. Are we on the same page?"

Maura breathes a sigh of relief, and Jane feels the heat on her chin. The impulse to pull Maura into her arms is strong. But how can she hold Maura and see her eyes light up at the same time? "We're on the same page," Maura laughs, clearly overwhelmed by relief. "It's just that… well, my mother is very susceptible to lies, Jane."

"And my mother isn't?" Jane chuckles.

"Withholding information from your mother doesn't give me hives."

"You haven't exactly lied to her."

Maura raises an eyebrow and her eyes focus on the darkness of Jane's. "I'm just suggesting that maybe it's time to begin being more obvious with our intimacy."

Jane looks down to where Maura's fingers trail over her wrist."You want me to be all lovey- dovey with you in front of people?"

Maura nods.

"Okay," Jane breathes, and rubs Maura's thigh, just above her knee, with a reassuring touch. "I can do that."

* * *

Jane had planned to go into work alone after lunch, but just before midday, Tommy is at the door with TJ in his arms, the little boy with one sock missing and his t-shirt on backwards. Jane has never seen her brother so flustered.

"Janie, Lydia's ma…the cops from Provincetown showed up his morning and they said they found her lyin' dead on the beach. You gotta come out there with us. Ma's at home with Lydia now, but I can't drive out to the Cape with just Lydia and Ma. They want me or Lydia to identify the body."

While Jane is on hold to the department in Provincetown, Maura is quick to point out that perhaps it is best Tommy travel alone with his wife. Had Lydia asked for Jane to go with them? Maura questions Tommy, and he hesitates before admitting that Lydia had asked for Jane not to go with them, that he simply drop TJ of with Jane and Maura, and come back to her.

"Tell Ma to come and pick TJ up later if she wants, but Tommy, don't ask her to go with you," Jane instructs him. "You can do this, and it's what Lydia would want. Don't take our Ma when she hasn't got hers."

TJ fusses all day. He is cranky at lunch, he throws a tantrum in the park, and he bites Jane when she tries to feed him dinner. After the waterworks and the screaming fit in the bathtub, he cries himself to sleep in Maura's arms. It is seven pm when Jane decides to call Angela's cell to ask where she is, to no answer. It is ten pm when she receives a text.

_Almst in PTown wit Tommy. Call tmrw. Lv u._

"Freakin' Tommy," Jane whispers angrily when she steps into their bedroom and finds Maura sitting up against the headboard, eyes closed, with TJ in her arms. Jane holds her cell phone out for Maura to read the text.

"Jane, Tommy isn't like you and Frankie," Maura reasons as she pulls at the fallen shoulder strap of her satin nightgown. "These kind of things are really difficult for him."

"Everything is hard for him!"

"Shh, please! I just got him to sleep."

"I sat with him like that for over thirty minutes and all his did was throw his fists around!"

"I think he likes the softness of my body," Maura whispers proudly.

"What?" Jane counters. "I'm not _soft_?"

"Your frame is much more muscular than mine!"

"Hand him over."

"Don't wake him!"

"You think I wanna wake him? He is the devil's freakin' spawn today."

"Jane! Don't call him that!"

Jane carefully begins to lift her nephew from Maura's hold. "Watch his hand…his fingers are caught under my shirt."

"Just like his father. Rizzoli boys have a way of trying to get under your clothes one way or another."

"I don't know about that," Maura whispers, "but it's not just Rizzoli boys who like to fall asleep in my arms."

Jane looks up sharply, and Maura's penetrating stare is dark. Playful, but dark. Maura likes to tease, she knows this. The thing is that Maura appears to know what she wants, but Jane can't read the darkness in Maura's gaze.

"I'll put him to bed," Jane whispers, and averts her eyes from Maura longing stare. "You…you've had a longer day with him than I have. You should get ready for bed."

"You seem to always know what's best for me, don't you, Jane?"

Jane swallows. "I like to think so."

Twenty minutes later, they are standing before the en suite basin, brushing their teeth, Jane in her BPD t-shirt and panties, and Maura in the skimpiest nightgown Jane is aware that Maura owns. Jane can feel Maura's eyes on her, but Jane doesn't dare look up. She doesn't know what the threat is of meeting Maura's eye. But it's something. Something dangerous. Something tempting. Jane doesn't know if she wants to be tempted when it's not real. Because although he body may react to Maura _sometimes_, it doesn't mean a single thing. It's just…touch. Touch can blur everything, heighten everything, ruin everything…

"Kiss me."

Jane looks up sharply to meet Maura's gaze in the reflection. She reaches over the blonde's shoulder, and drops her toothbrush next to Maura's in the holder. "What?"

Maura turns, inches between her body and Jane's. "Kiss me."

Jane swallows, and licks her lips. Maura is wearing a coy smile, a devilish smile, and Jane just knows this is how Maura looks at the men she wants, the men she fucks. Anger burns through Jane. Like acid, it flows, and leaks.

They stand there for so long, stilted and stunned, that it becomes so awkward and humiliating for Maura that she loses her nerve. She drops her gaze.

Relief is Jane's.

And then panic becomes her.

Maura watches with focused fascination as she brings her hands to Jane's shoulders. Her fingertips rub over the soft cotton of Jane's t-shirt, and she bites her lip.

"Maura…"

"Shh…" Maura breathes as she moves closer to Jane. Her fingertips trail over Jane's shoulders, and her hands link around Jane's neck. "Just pretend for a moment…that you want me." Maura leans closer, tilts her head up, and Jane watches as her eyes fall closed.

Jane reaches out and places her hands on Maura's waist. She dips her head. _Do it._

The first thing that Jane registers when her lips press against Maura's is the way that Maura's clasped hands pull down, almost afraid that Jane is going to run away. As though helping Maura to keep herself there, Jane pulls Maura tighter against her. Their lips barely part in a kiss, but the firmness of Jane's mouth, confessing all that she is holding back, all that she is taking, is so entirely pleasant and delightful that Maura whimpers softly.

Jane pulls back at the sound.

"Mmm," Maura breathes, hungry for more. "Keep going. That was barely a kiss," she challenges.

Jane breathes a shaky sigh. "Okay."

Jane bends again, and this time, when their lips touch, Maura captures Jane's bottom lip between her own. Jane tries to regulate her breathing as Maura sucks on Jane's lip, runs her tongue over the flesh, and tilts her head to deepen the kiss.

Maura's lips are hot and…soft. Jane can feel the heat on her cheeks as Maura's hands slip around her neck and take Jane's face in her hands. Jane's thumbs press firmly into Maura's abdomen, demanding and dominant, and Maura steps back twice before she grunts at the touch of the rim of the basin against her lower spine.

Jane begins to draw back, but Maura whimpers at the loss of heat and softness of Jane's lips. Maura follows her, tugging at her lips so eagerly that Jane's only response is to keep nipping and nipping at Maura's full lips. She slows, trying to draw it out and not make it anymore than it is, but something stops her. It's the need to just pause and feel the intensity they've just met, to just…_feel._

Surprisingly, it is Maura who pulls back first. She watches the expression on Jane's face change imperceptibly, and sees the flicker of matching desire smoldering in her eyes.

"Was that okay?" Jane rasps.

"I think so. I think you liked it."

"Don't tease me." Jane drops her hold on Maura's waist. She reaches around the blonde for a glass on the basin, and fills it with water. She gulps down half a glass before she turns to Maura and takes her in, eyes wide and lips swollen. "It's not going to be terrible, alright? Kissing is kissing."

Maura does not miss the implication of Jane's words. _Kissing is kissing. Whether I'm kissing a man or a woman._

"Really?" Maura asks with genuine interest. "It didn't feel at least a little bit different for you?"

"Maura, why you gotta ask so many questions? We did it, okay? We can do it without getting weird. Now we know."

"I'm just interested," Maura admits.

She startles when Jane slams the glass on the marble surface of the basin.

"Well don't be."

**AN:** Hey, everyone! Thank you so much for your lovely reviews for the last chapter! They are very, very appreciated! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you have the time, let me know what you thought of their first kiss!


	11. Chapter 11

It is the second day of summer when Constance arrives to stay.

Maura is wishing a very pleasant and rehearsed good bye to someone on the other end of the phone line when Jane steps into Maura's office and demands that they get moving so that they can grab a bite to eat before making their way to the airport. After Angela brought TJ into the café at lunch time and the kid decided to press his tomato sauced lips to the shoulder of Maura's Prada dress, Maura's been insistent that they stop home to change on the way to the airport. Jane's biggest concern is not tomato sauce on white satin, nor is it whether or not Constance has to wait an extra five minutes at arrivals; Jane knows that if something has to be sacrificed, it's going to be her next meal.

"C'mon, if we don't leave now I'm going to have to stop at the McDonald's by the airport for dinner, and I swear, I won't even be sorry for it." Maura grips the edge of her desk and releases a shaky breath. "Was that Constance?" Jane realises as she watches Maura's face pale.

Maura looks up at her. "How did you know?"

"Maura," Jane states to get her best friend's logical attention. "You look like you're about to pass out. For one, she's your mom, so calm down. And two, we still have an hour before her flight arrives from New York. Jeez, she obviously hasn't even left there yet, so keep your panties on!"

Maura huffs and shakes her head in her hands. When she looks up at Jane, there is a hint of a smile on her lips. "Jane, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask a favour of you."

Jane shifts from one foot to the other. "Yeah? Can you ask in the car? If I don't get fed before we pick her up, you sure as hell won't let me go through drive thru with fancy pants in the backseat—

"I need to stay back and finish some paperwork, could you pick up Constance from the airport?" Maura asks seriously.

Jane's eyes widen in dreaded alarm. "Alone? I thought you wanted to do this together?"

Slowly, Maura's lips tighten into a mischievous grin.

"Funny, Maura. Very funny. Let's go."

* * *

They stand around at the arrival gate at Logan for twenty five minutes, Maura in a new dress, and Jane's stomach full. After thirteen minutes, Jane reaches into Maura's pocket for the blonde's shaky hand.

"I'm not going to let you down, okay?"

"I know that, Jane."

"She doesn't judge you half as much as you think she does. She loves you."

"I'm just tired." Maura sighs and intertwines her fingers more intimately with Jane's. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Where else would I be?"

Staring straight ahead at the double doors they're waiting for Constance to walk through, Maura grins. Jane can feel the tension slipping away.

Constance is one of the first off the plane with her luggage, and Maura hears Jane mumble something about the price of first class airline tickets. Jane watches as Constance's poised expression of acknowledgment of her daughter and Jane brings genuine happiness to the doctor's features as they share practiced kisses. Jane can't help but think that, had it been Angela who emerged from those double doors after six months of being apart, it would have been with a holy show of affection.

"Really, Maura, you didn't have to do this," Constance claims as Jane loads her bag into the small trunk of Maura's car.

"This is what family does," Jane hears Maura affirm. "I never get the opportunity. I want to, Mother."

When Constance answers a call while getting into the backseat, Maura walks around to Jane. "I think she's uncomfortable with this. I shouldn't have suggested this," she whispers regretfully.

"Hey, she's fine with it. They may not show it, but family love it when you pick them up spontaneously." Jane pauses. "Even from prison." Maura scoffs, but laughs, and Jane winks at her playfully. "Who could not want Maura Isles standing at the gate waiting for them?"

"Hope Martin?" Maura suggests. When she says it, her voice wavers in a way that makes Jane's blood boil.

"Hope isn't here, but your other mother is. So just make the most of this, okay?"

The drive home isn't all that awkward, and if Jane thought Maura was relaxed in the airport with their fingers linked, she's even calmer now. Jane navigates her way across Boston while Maura sits in the front next to her, swivelling in her seat one minute intervals to make small talk with her mother.

"Jane and I went to Paris last month, Mother."

"Oh, how lovely! Did you enjoy Paris, Jane?"

"Yeah, it was great," Jane smiles at Constance in the rear vision mirror as she flicks her left blinker into Maura's street. "Maura surprised me for my birthday. It was real nice of her."

"Well, that is nice. I certainly never had your father take me to Paris, Maura, let alone a colleague, or a friend."

Jane feels Maura's eyes glance over to her as silence consumes them, but the brunette remains overly focused on parking Maura's tiny car in the almost empty street.

"I hope you didn't ask Angela to leave the guest house for the duration of my stay in Boston," Constance says from the backseat.

Jane dares to meet Maura's eye. The doctor is biting her lip, and her cheeks are just as flushed as the night last week when Jane had pressed her up against the basin and kissed her for the first time, softly, slowly, sweetly.

"Oh, that's okay," Jane speaks up. "My ma doesn't live in the guesthouse anymore."

Jane dares to be the one to reach for Maura's hand, and link their fingers on the console, right before Constance's eyes.

"Mother…Jane and I live together now."

* * *

Jane wakes in the middle of the night with her best friend wrapped around her, suffocating her in the heat. Maura sleeps on peacefully, but Jane can't. Slowly, she peels Maura's arm away from her mildly sweaty torso, and places it on the mattress in the little space between them. Maura doesn't seem to feel the heat. Jane has always felt it.

The hall is dark when Jane makes her way towards the kitchen towards that gentle clink and whistle of Maura's espresso machine. The clock on the oven lights up the minute of 2:36 am, and Jane is surprised to find that they haven't been asleep long at all.

"Jane," Constance remarks as she brings a hand to her chest. "Did I wake you?"

Braless in her white tank top, Jane takes in a fully dressed Constance Isles as she crosses her arms over her breasts and the tips of black curls. "Oh, no. I was just really hot, so I woke, and then I heard noise, so I thought I'd come and see if there was anything you needed."

"No, thank you, Jane." Constance's eyes narrow as she watches Jane's confused gaze sweep over her immaculately presented form. "Maura knows that I have an important business meeting via video call at 3 am," she explains. "She told me to help myself to the espresso machine as the guest house doesn't have one."

"Oh, how awful," Jane mocks playfully, and waits for the grin of understanding to curl the corners of Constance's lips. Jane thinks that the register of the joke on the older woman's face is almost as funny as seeing it cross Maura's expression. Almost.

"You're a very beautiful woman, Jane."

Jane tries not to cringe. "Thanks." She throws the fridge open in search of that expensive bottled water Maura insists on keeping chilled and stocked, and Jane threatens to drink and refill with tap water to test if Maura really knows the difference.

"You could be a model..." Constance states genuinely as she waits for her coffee to drip.

Jane pulls out a bottle of water and nudges the fridge door closed with her foot. "Wasn't really my line of interest," she chuckles.

Constance takes pause and does not comment. Jane can feel Maura's mother's eyes on her. _Sip it slowly, _Jane reminds herself as she takes a gulp of water from the springs of Switzerland.

"I know that you may think me to be naïve," Constance starts, "but I do understand the love that you have for Maura. And I understand that this is the life that Maura wants. This is the life Maura has always wanted."

Jane doesn't censor her words. "You mean…you thought Maura was gay before this?"

Constance purses her lips. "I am not referring to the fact that you are in a lesbian relationship. I was acknowledging Maura's desire for a simple life…something real that we could never give her."

A surge of guilt rushes through Jane at the word 'real'. _No_, she tells it, and the major limbs of the guilt are cut away so that they can't reach inside of Jane and turn Constance's kindness into Jane's regret. _What you have with Maura is real in its own way._

"I do see the differences between her humble life and my…my life," Constance confesses, and Jane stops peeling the label of the water bottle to look up. Constance meets Jane's stare. "I am not pompous or stupid enough to believe that the life of luxury I lead is better than this, Jane."

Jane laughs Constance's seriousness away in fear of saying too much and making the woman feel even more remorseful for all of the time she's missed with Maura. "Our lives are anything but simple," Jane assures her, and the simple message of the comment is 'Maura didn't set out to be the opposite of you when she decided to be with me.'

Constance sighs and nods in knowing agreement.

"I didn't mean to imply that you are not busy women, that you are not important women. What I mean is that, I was never very loving towards my daughter, and I know that she distanced herself in order to become what my idea of successful is."

"You don't have to be so hard on yourself…" Jane tries, and leans across the counter island.

"You are good for Maura," Constance presses on, and Jane knows what is coming. "I don't believe you are afraid of being affectionate with my daughter, Jane, and she needs that, as I'm sure you are aware." Jane struggles not to clear her throat in discomfort. "I do believe that Maura is afraid of affection…that she views emotion as a form of weakness," Constance adds.

"She did," Jane starts. "I mean, she was like that…but she's changed. She's really happy." _I'm going to try to make her even happier._ "This is it for the both of us," Jane finishes confidently.

Constance raises a sharply pointed eyebrow. "You've wanted this for a long time."

"She was my best friend," Jane shrugs. "Somewhere along the line, I guess I just forgot what it was like to not have her around. What can I say? I like having her to myself," Jane grins.

"Are you going to marry her?" Constance asks in all seriousness.

Jane feels the blood rush to her cheeks in the cool kitchen. "We're, umm, we haven't really talked about that…"

"I see. What does your mother think of the two of you?"

"She's warming up to it. Not because of Maura."

"Because she's a woman?"

"Yeah," Jane breathes softly.

"Your mother should be proud of your loyalty and honesty. I assume those qualities are a testament to her?"

Jane scoffs. "Well, I suppose I had to get it from somewhere, might as well be Ma, because it sure wasn't my pop!"

Constance pauses. "He left you mother, is that right?"

"Yeah."

Constance offers an empathetic smile. "We all have our faults and downfalls. We're certainly not our parents, but sometimes I find that those who try not to be, turn out to be exactly like them." Jane nods in agreement as she tops up the half empty bottle with tap water. "Maura's not like me." Jane turns to look at Constance, and she swears that she can see Maura in those crystal blue eyes. "Is she like Hope?" the older woman asks.

"Yeah," Jane replies honestly as she replaces the water bottle on the shelf in the fridge. "She is."

"Do you like Hope?" Constance asks.

"No. Hope…Hope destroyed Maura, in a way. When Hope showed up…it wasn't a good time."

"The miscarriage?"

Jane shifts uncomfortably from bare foot to bare foot. "Maura doesn't really talk about it."

"She still wants to have children?"

"Yeah, she does."

"You'll make wonderful mothers."

Being a mother to Maura's child, or Maura being a mother to her child, sends a shiver of excitement throughout Jane. It's veiled by fierce protectiveness, and it makes Jane feel like the alpha. It makes her feel like who she is. Like this is who she is meant to be. Jane stands taller and straightens her posture. "That would really mean a lot to Maura. You should tell her that…one day."

Head bowed and eyes focused on her espresso, Constance smiles softly. Jane is proud; she's said the right thing.

"I have a meeting in seven minutes, Jane, but thank you for sharing with me."

"I'm going to head back to bed, too. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Detective."

When Jane hears the back door click behind Constance, and rounds the corner into the hall, Maura is standing there in that white satin nightgown that bares chest freckles over the curves of full breasts and kisses far too high on Maura thigh. Jane hates that it makes her mouth go dry. She hates it. Mostly, she hates that looking at 3am Maura in a skimpy nightie, hands behind her back, and lip between her teeth fucking confuses her.

"Are you going to marry me?" Maura asks impishly she shifts on her feet and rests back against the wall again with a grin. A troubled grin. Immediately Jane realises that, if Maura heard Constance ask about marriage, she also heard Constance ask about the miscarriage. Maura tries to smile more playfully, to mask her sadness and emptiness with a joke because, hey, that's what Jane has taught her, but Jane won't let her. Jane is not smiling. She feels like she is on fire. She feels like she is going to cry. She feels aroused and irritated and desperate all at once. Jane reaches out and slips her arms around Maura's narrow waist to envelope the smaller woman in a tight embrace. They are so closely pressed together that Jane thinks this is the closest they've ever been.

It takes Maura a moment to adjust to the surprise of being held. As she winds her arms around Jane's neck and moulds her form more comfortably to Jane's, she is also surprised to find Jane's hands so hungry, roaming up and down her satin clad back. Maura encourages it because she knows, has known for a long time, what Jane does not. She knows what Jane is in denial of wanting. And Maura wants to give it to Jane, too. She'd do anything _for_ Jane, and she'd do anything to be _closer_ to Jane.

Holding each other has always felt safe. Jane relishes this brand of safety as she scarred palms smooth over Maura's waist and hips, and feels Maura rest her head against Jane's shoulder. But it is when Jane's hands skim too far south over the curve of Maura's ass and Maura presses herself closer that Jane realises, oh god, she's crossed a line, and pulls back. She mechanically places her hands in a safe hold on Maura's waist and berates herself for being so caught up in the moment. She never needed this kind of comfort before, so why does groping her best friend in a darkened hallway seem like such a lifeline now?

"Hey…" Maura tilts Jane's chin up to meet her gaze. "It's okay." Maura swipes her thumb over Jane's bottom lip. "You can touch me." Jane scoffs and looks down to her feet, humiliated. Maura drags Jane's hands to link around her waist but Jane goes to draw back. "I'm not teasing you," Maura asserts, and grasps Jane's wrists more tightly. "I promise, Jane. I know how you feel about me. We're just close. I know how you love me."

"Do you?" Jane asks, her voice raspy. _How can you know how I love you, when I'm not even sure how I love you?_ Jane pulls back. "Maura, I just want to go back to bed and hold you like I always do."

Maura leads Jane into their bedroom, and they shift together closely on the bed as they always do, Jane pressed up behind Maura, Maura's right leg between Jane's. Jane doesn't even mind the heat.

"You've lost weight," Jane whispers in the darkness as her hand finds Maura's hip beneath the covers.

"I've been working out."

"Your hips…they're thinner."

Maura arches more fully into Jane, and Jane fights the urge to move back, to give Maura more space. "I'm surprised you noticed."

"I notice everything,"

"That's why you're such a wonderful detective."

"Mhmm."

* * *

On Constance's last night in Boston, Jane suggests an upscale Italian restaurant in the North End for dinner. Jane even wears a skirt and straightens her hair, much to Maura and Angela's delight.

"I'm going to make you eat something green," Maura declares as Jane pulls down on the hemline of her skirt.

"Okay," Jane says with a wink at Constance. "I'll get spinach pasta."

"I was thinking more along the lines of Pasta Primavera…" Maura clarifies.

"Maura, if you want vegetables in your meal, then how about you order it?"

"Jane, you should listen to Maura. She's a doctor," Angela insists as she scans the menu, and

Jane rolls her eyes. "She's not my doctor."

Jane looks up in time to catch the trace of Maura's suppressed smirk.

After their main course, Jane excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She stands for a long moment before the mirror in the fancy powder room next to the bathroom, just taking in how she looks. She likes her hair straightened. It had taken a while, but Jane thinks she looks good. And she does look good. She wonders how much it means to Maura when she puts effort into her appearance.

When the click of the door sounds, Jane leans closer to the mirror and swipes below her eye under the pretence of adjusting her makeup. She'd rather be caught dead than caught vain.

When Maura gracefully swings the powder room door open, Jane smiles. She turns, and leans against the vanity.

"I'm not your doctor, hey?" Maura plays with a raised eyebrow as she steps closer.

Jane smirks. "You know that you're my doctor."

Maura's gaze penetrates Jane's stare. _There._ With that fucking lip biting again.

The heels of Maura's high stilettos tap loudly against the tiles as she comes to stand next to Jane.

"Can I ask you a question, Jane?" Maura whispers.

"Yeah. Sure." Jane is anything but sure.

"Would it be alright if I kissed you again?"

Jane swallows. She should have known. "Why would you want to do that?" she asks dumbly.

"I like kissing you. It makes me feel loved and wanted. And it feels right, like with kissing we've finally reached where we need to be for the rest of our lives, and now we can just enjoy it." Maura pauses. "Is it okay to say that?"

_No._

"I like kissing you, too," Jane rasps. "I'm not gay," she kicks at the edge of a slightly upraised tile with the pointed toe of her heel. "But I like kissing you."

Jane turns to look at Maura, and sees a glossy lightness in her eyes. Hope. Want. Understanding. _She just wants to feel less alone_, Jane convinces herself.

It is quick when Maura leans up to softly peck at Jane's lips with her own. She pulls away too quickly, and Jane looks down at her curiously. This was nothing like their heated first kiss. This was almost…friendly.

"This isn't…sexual for you, is it?" Jane asks, wanting to make sure that this isn't going to get them into waters they can't swim their way out of.

"What?"

"The kissing when it's not…practise? It's just…comfort and because it feels good, right?"

Before Maura answers, she presses her lips to Jane's again, and lingers longer this time. "It's not sexual," Maura whispers against Jane's lips, and Jane feels the shape of each word move over her lips. "It's romantic."

"Romantic," Jane repeats, parting her lips as she says it. Maura's full bottom lip slides between Jane's at the movement. "Yeah. Good."

As Maura reaches out to run her fingers along the waistline of Jane's black skirt, the click of the door sounds and swings open before they can separate.

Constance.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no," Jane reassures her as Maura reaches for Jane's hand. "You're fine, we were just heading back to the table."

"Mother, would you like for us to order you desert?" Maura asks, composed.

"We've actually ordered for the two of you. Excuse me, I won't be a moment," Constance says as she pushes open the other door to the bathroom.

Maura swivels on the spot to look at Jane. "We should go back to your mother."

"Wait," Jane demands, and reaches for Maura's hand to pull her closer to whisper. "What we were just doing…tell me that's enough for you."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want us to ruin what we have just because it suddenly feels right to kiss. _We_," Jane gestures between them, "are more important than kissing." Jane considers her next question for a moment. She dares to ask, "You don't want us to be like…friends with benefits, do you?"

Maura's eyes widen. "No."

Jane raises an eyebrow.

"No!" Maura emphasises. "Kissing is more than enough. It's all that I need to be happy with you."

**AN:** Your reviews really do mean the world! Thank you so much!


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